


Amaranth Everlasting

by Scarlet_Gryphon



Series: The Avalon Accords [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dumbledore Bashing, Eventual Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Gen, Good Malfoy Family, Male-Female Friendship, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Politics, Pureblood Society, pre-Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Gryphon/pseuds/Scarlet_Gryphon
Summary: Amaranth Euphemia Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, has been seen only rarely since that fateful All Hallow's Eve when Voldemort went against the House of Potter. She is not what anyone expects, and will turn the Wizarding World upside-down and sideways, just like any good Potter should.





	1. Chapter One: Unexpected Offers

**Author's Note:**

> My first time playing around with Always a girl!Harry Potter. Also, the actor cast for a certain role is Mark Strong, because it tickles me too much not to do so.

Amaranth Euphemia Potter lay in her playpen, idly gumming at the charmed teething ring that was helping to soothe the pain of her molars coming in as she listened to the rain of a mid-autumn storm drumming against the window. Her mother sat in an armchair nearby, humming softly to herself as she read a book on Charms. Lily was studying for her Charms Mastery. She knew that while the war was going on, it would be very difficult to take the Mastery exams, but maybe once the war was over...

Lily sighed softly, catching the attention of her husband, James, who was sitting in the twin to Lily's chair, a drink in his hand and the family cat sprawled across his lap as he idly pet her. “Everything alright, Lils?” James asked, setting his drink down on the table next to him.

Lily shot her husband a quick smile, though it faded away after a moment. “I'm just... I'm worried that this war will never end. I want to get my Charms Mastery. I want--” She looked over at Amaranth. “I want Mara to live a happy, healthy life.”

James shooed the cat off his lap before going over to the playpen and scooping Amaranth up, earning a pleased coo from the tiny witch. She flailed her hands, bopping her father on the chin with her drool-covered teething ring. The Potter Lord grimaced a little before wiping the drool off his chin.

“C'mon, little doe, no sliming your dad up,” he said, making Lily chuckle a little.

“It's her job in life at the moment,” she said as James settled Amaranth in his arms more firmly. “Eat, poop, sleep, and spit up on people.”

“But the prophecy--”

Lily scoffed. “A prophecy made in a seedy tavern by someone applying for the Divination job at Hogwarts? I respect Dumbledore, but I still think the prophecy doesn't have much weight to it.”

“It might not have much weight to you, but to Voldemort and Dumbledore, it does,” James said. “They have belief in it enough for the whole world.”

“Belief is a powerful thing, Lord Potter. Trust me, I should know.”

Lily and James turned quickly, Lily drawing her wand from its dimensional store in a silver bracelet on her right wrist and pointing it at the intruder. James shifted Amaranth back in the crook of one arm while pressing a hand against Lily's back, preparing to use the emergency Portkey he wore to get his family away to the safe house not even Dumbledore knew the location of.

“Who are you?” Lily demanded. “How did you get through our wards?”

“Or the Fidelius?” James muttered. Lily ignored him, keeping her wand leveled at the tall man who stepped out of the shadows. The stranger had his hands raised in a calming gesture of peace as he came to a halt in front of them.

“I mean you no harm,” he said. “If I did, I wouldn't have made you aware of my presence. As for the wards and Fidelius... I am a servant of the Lady Herself. I walk the path between Dark and Light, keeping the Balance as is required of me.” He looked at Amaranth, who was staring at him curiously. A small smile curved his lips, warmth filling his mercurial hazel eyes and crinkling their corners. “That path has taken me here. I've been waiting for this day for a long time.”

“What do you mean?” Lily asked, eyes narrowing. She didn't like the way the stranger was looking at her daughter, even if he was dressed surprisingly Muggle-like in neatly pressed trousers and a soft-looking thin sweater over a crisp white dress shirt, a plain black tie tucked under the sweater completing the look. His head was clean-shaven, though there was some faint stubble on his cheeks. All in all, decidedly not someone she would've pegged for a wizard, especially not one powerful enough to walk through wards and a Fidelius like they weren't even there. If she'd passed him in Muggle London, she wouldn't have given him a second thought, even with the moderate Scottish accent that flavored his words.

The stranger's gaze never shifted from Amaranth even as he sank to one knee in front of James, placing his clenched right fist over his left breast. “I've been waiting since Camlann to meet the heir to the Magic-blessed Pendragon, and I've been brought here by the Lady after over fourteen hundred years of wandering the Isles and the world now that that blessed event has happened.”

James and Lily just stared at him, shock writ clear across their faces. It was James who spoke first, his words hesitant.

“Are... Are you saying that our daughter is King Arthur reborn? And that you're...”

“Merlin, or Myrddin Emrys,” the stranger replied. “And no, young Amaranth is not the Pendragon reborn, but rather his rightful heir, and as such, is the future ruler of Magical Avalon and the British Wizarding World.”

“But... Why her? Why not James?” Lily asked.

Merlin looked up at her, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Because while your husband is a descendant of Godric Gryffindor, who was in turn a descendant of Percival, one of Arthur's most trusted, it was your family who carries the legacy of Arthur-- more specifically, your mother's family. Amaranth is the heir because while you were the first in your family to be given the Lady's Gift in many generations, it was only when you two married and combined your bloodlines that Magic recognized her right to rule, even while in the womb.”

“And what about the prophecy that she's supposed to defeat Voldemort?” James asked. “How is she supposed to rule the Magical world if she's got a Dark Lord coming after her?”

Merlin rose to his feet in a smooth motion, his attention finally leaving Amaranth and focusing on James. “The one known as Voldemort will be a problem, yes, but he's not eternal. He's a blight on this world and an enemy of the Lady. I'm here to ensure that he does not condemn her to a life of solely being a weapon to be used against him and other evils by those who would want such a thing.”

“How can you help her?” Lily pressed. “Can you keep her from having to face him at all?”

Merlin's expression went clouded. “No,” he said softly. “She must face him at least once. Prophecies are tricky things, and often not understood fully until after they're completed. However, fate and the magics inherent in these kinds of things will force them to come together again and again until the prophecy is fulfilled.”

“But can you help her? You're Merlin, for--” James let out a sharp laugh. “Well, you know. You're _Merlin_.”

“I am,” Merlin agreed with a slight tilt of his head in agreement. “I can and will help her. I'll guide her and be her mentor and one of her protectors until such a time as she doesn't need me any more.”

Lily was quiet for a long moment. “When-- If-- If we die when Voldemort comes for her, will you protect her? Raise her?”

“What about Sirius?” James asked, surprised at the request. “He's her godfather. He'd raise her, as would Alice and Frank. You know that.”

“I know, but Sirius is headstrong and impetuous, and while I love Alice and Frank like they were my own family, I want to make sure Mara has the best chance she can get,” Lily replied, “and who better than Merlin himself?”

James scrubbed a hand over his face, thinking. He focused on Merlin with a pensive expression. “Do you know if we're going to survive?”

Merlin hesitated. “I can see several different outcomes, but I can't tell you your fates,” he said finally. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” James said with a shake of his head. “Lily is right. You'd be the best choice to make sure Mara survives whatever Voldemort and the rest of the Wizarding World throws as her. Would you be willing to do that for us?”

“She's my queen,” Merlin said simply. “I want her to be as strong and prepared as possible. If it means helping to raise her in your stead, than I would be honored.”

He reached out and gently brushed his fingers across Amaranth's forehead, a few fine locks of her hair-- which was already so dark a red as to seem black unless in direct or strong light –being moved as he did so. A shimmer of golden magic followed his fingers, sinking into her skin and earning a yawn from Amaranth, who was hardly impressed. “I'll do my best to make sure her godparents and other honorary family members don't do anything stupid when the time comes,” he promised. “I'll be visiting the Longbottoms after I'm finished here.”

“Give them our love,” Lily said, earning a nod from Merlin.

“Of course,” he replied. “I've touched Amaranth with my magic, so I'll be able to find her no matter where she is, regardless of whether or not she's behind wards or even a Fidelius.”

“Thank you,” James said. He shifted Amaranth in his arms before reaching out to shake Merlin's hand. Merlin shook it firmly, giving James and Lily a smile and a brief nod before letting go.

“Be well, and may the Lady guide you,” Merlin said before turning on his heel and vanishing with a soft pop of air.

It was barely three days later when Merlin felt the tug in his magical core, a sense of sadness sweeping over him. He closed his eyes, grieving the loss of two vibrant and truly magical souls, before grabbing a long coat and dark scarf and then putting them on. Merlin left the private island that, to all outside appearances (particularly to Muggles), looked abandoned but in reality held a thriving and self-sufficient small castle behind thick walls and even thicker wards, appearing outside of the ruined house in Godric's Hollow that had once held the Potter family.

He couldn't sense Amaranth's presence in the half-demolished house; only the lingering taint of black magic in the crisp air. Merlin closed his eyes briefly, focusing on the connection he had with Amaranth. A few moments later, he was appearing in a wholly Muggle neighborhood, something that made Merlin narrow his eyes. This wasn't good at all.

Merlin strode down the street, fallen leaves swirling in his wake. The trace led him to Number Four, Privet Drive. Anger rose sharply in Merlin's gut when he saw the small form of Amaranth laying swaddled in a blanket on the front doorstep. He held out a hand, an oaken staff with a large orb of moss agate suddenly appearing in it out of thin air. A few passes over Amaranth's sleeping form had Merlin's anger rising even more. She had one warming charm and a sleeping charm on her, but that was it.

Merlin put his staff away back in the pocket dimension it was kept in until needed and then scooped Amaranth up, cradling her against his chest. He pocketed the letter that had been left with her, intending on reading it later.

“Come along, little one. Let's get you somewhere safe,” he murmured as Amaranth stirred, one small hand clutching at his coat. Merlin turned on his heel, leaving Privet Drive behind, never to be visited by either magical being again.

 


	2. Chapter Two: Dealings with Goblins

An unopened bottle of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey sat on the center of the scarred and battered kitchen table, its purchaser staring at it with his chin propped up on his interlaced fingers. The young man hadn't had a drink since he'd graduated from Hogwarts, not wanting to end up like his father, an abusive drunk. He rubbed at his left forearm, fingers running over the place where the insignia of a madman had once rested. It was faded now, and had been for three whole days.

Many things had happened since Halloween. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange had been captured while attempting to get past the ancient wards of Greenvale Hall, the ancestral seat of the House of Longbottom, while the other two members of the group, Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr, had been killed in the ensuing fight with the Aurors on one side of the wards and Frank, Alice, and Augusta Longbottom on the other. Quite a few other Death Eaters had been caught as well in that short time, often due to informants trying to save their own skins, but so far the young man at the table hadn't. Yet.

Severus sighed and then scrubbed his hands over his face, scrubbing his hands over his face. Fucking hells. He was trapped. He'd been a double agent during the war, and there were more than likely people on both sides that would love to see him dead, trial or not. He supposed he could try to disappear into the Muggle world or other Magical communities around the world, but that wasn't his preference, nor entirely foolproof.

“My life is ruined,” Severus muttered. “Now what am I going to do?”

“Maybe make me a cup of tea?”

Severus was up and casting offensive spells at the intruder who had suddenly appeared on the other side of the table. The spells splashed against a shimmering gold shield that Severus didn't recognize. The intruder didn't respond to Severus' attack, simply standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, an unimpressed expression on his face.

“When you're finished,” he said dryly. “I do have limited time here.”

Severus stopped casting but kept his wand trained steadily on the other man. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

“You're not the first person who's asked me that recently,” came the reply, accompanied by an amused smile. “My name is Merlin, and I got in here by the Lady's grace.”

“Right, and I'm Morgana in drag,” Severus snapped. “Who are you, really?”

“I really am Merlin,” Merlin told him, letting his shield drop before taking a seat at the table. “Now, about that tea?”

Severus stared at him. Whoever this guy actually was, he was powerful and entirely unconcerned about his own safety. Obviously he was insane as well, but that often didn't count for much amongst magic users. He kept his eyes on Merlin as he flicked his wand, Summoning two tea mugs and tea bags to the table and directing one each to his visitor and then the rest to his own seat. Two _Aguamenti_ s and heating charms later and the tea was brewing. Severus took a seat across from Merlin, keeping his wand close at hand.

“Thank you,” Merlin said, idly dunking his teabag in the hot water in his mug a few times before letting it steep properly. “Now then, to answer your question about what you're going to do with your life, I have an offer for you. Come with me to Gringotts, listen to what they have to say, and I'll remove your Dark Mark and any lingering magics Voldemort might have left behind.”

Severus snorted sharply. “Right. And you're doing this out of the good of your heart,” he drawled. “What do you get out of it? What's your price?”

Merlin smirked at that. “Ever the Slytherin. My price, as you call it, is to help me with a very special project. It will take years to complete, but I can promise you that it will be for the betterment of the entire British Wizarding World. Regardless of if someone's core is Light, Gray, or Dark, they will benefit from this. It will be hard, and at times you will curse my name and very existence, but I can promise it would be a better life than being trapped under the thumb of one master because of the sins done under another's.”

“Redemption but at a price,” Severus said cautiously, earning a nod from Merlin.

“Redemption always carries one, even if it's not immediately apparent,” Merlin replied. He lifted his mug to his lips, taking a sip of the tea to test it before setting it back down. “Dumbledore will not be able to hold your Mark and activities over your head. After all, having the verification from Gringotts that you are not a servant of the Dark Lord any more will go a long way, as will the offer of a far better job than Potions Master at Hogwarts.”

“How did you--”

“Merlin, remember?” Merlin said with a smirk. “Besides, we both know you'd hate being tied down to one place and having to teach young children about your favorite subject when they have no idea the difference between monkshood and mulberry or why you should pick certain ingredients at different times of the year, month, day, or moon cycle for various effects. You'd chafe at your bonds and eventually end up miserable and angry, which is something I think you've been enough of in your life, don't you?”

Severus couldn't argue with that. He drank some of his tea, using the time to contemplate his choices. Either go with the madman proclaiming himself to be Merlin to Gringotts or be caught in Dumbledore's web for Morgana knew how long until he either died or was somehow freed.

“You'll remove my Dark Mark?” he asked finally.

“Yes, and any lingering taint Voldemort might've left or anything Dumbledore might have attempted to bind you with,” Merlin said. “Your core is Dark but not corrupt, and there's a world of difference there.” He finished off his tea and then got up, Banishing the mug to the sink and the tea bag to the rubbish bin. “We've got a short time before we need to get to Gringotts, but it'd be for the best that we get there soon. A fair warning: there will be others there, some that you will not be pleased about. I ask that you save any and all anger and magical attacks until you hear what's to be said and we are out of the bank. The information that you are going to hear is vital to the future of the British Wizarding World, and I'd hate to have the goblins bloody their axes because someone was foolish enough to draw a weapon and start casting spells in the middle of a conference room.”

“I can hold myself back if the others can,” Severus replied, getting up as well. A few flicks of his wand and he was ready to go. Merlin held out a short length of rope, offering one of the knotted ends to Severus.

“This will take us directly to one of the receiving rooms in Gringotts,” he explained as Severus took hold. “And... _Galleon_!”

The Portkey activated, the two men leaving Spinner's End in a whirl of sound and color, landing a few brief seconds later in one of the better-appointed receiving rooms in Gringotts. A goblin was waiting there for them, looking utterly bored with his task. Without speaking a word, he turned on his heel and left the room, only a short gesture indicating that he should be followed. Merlin and Severus did so, Merlin tucking the rope into a pocket of his long coat. They were taken to one of the larger conference rooms, the goblin opening the door for them before taking his leave.

Merlin stepped inside first, blocking Severus' view of those already inside briefly before he moved out of the way. Severus stopped just inside the room, having to fight down the urge to draw his wand immediately. Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and all four of the Longbottoms were there situated around a conference table, as well as three higher-ranking goblins seated at the table's head, if their well-tailored clothing was anything to go by. Severus barely noticed the doors sealing shut behind him and heavy privacy wards settling into place, as he was more concerned with squashing the urge to curse Black and Lupin heavily. Black particularly seemed to be having the same problem, with only Lupin's calming hand on his arm stopping him from courting a beheading by one of the goblins, all of whom had their axes leaning against their chairs in a ready to reach position.

“Sit, Master Snape,” the middle goblin said, indicating one of the free chairs. “We have much to discuss and little time to do it in.”

Severus took a seat as far away from Lupin and Black as was possible without being stuck at the far end of the table, sending the two one last glare before focusing on the goblin. Merlin hadn't sat down, but was instead observing the two young toddlers in a playpen tucked away behind yet more wards in a corner. Severus frowned. He'd figured the Longbottoms would have their son with them, but he wasn't sure who the second child was, unless...

His gaze flicked immediately back to Lupin and Black. Surely not. Dumbledore had said she was safely hidden away.

“What did you two do?”

“They didn't do a thing,” Merlin said as he stepped away from the playpen, content to let Amaranth and Neville keep one another occupied for the time being. “I did. Lily and James asked me to watch over their daughter, so I am.” He sneered. “I found her on the doorstep of Lily's Muggle relatives. She'd been left there under a sleeping and warming charm, wrapped up in a thin blanket. That was it.”

He sat down in one of the remaining chairs before folding his hands on the table in front of him. “As for what we need to discuss, I'm going to warn you now, some of it isn't pleasant, and all of it is has been declared a High Secret by both the Goblin Nation and by Magic itself. The moment that door closed, protections were laid around the minds of all within this room, the children included, so that no one, not even the most skilled Legilimens or torturer, could either pry it from your mind or make you talk about it. Even if you remove the memory from your mind and put it into a Pensieve, no one but yourself would be able to glean anything from it. It would be utter rubbish to anyone else, and entirely useless. This is by design, because trust me when I say that the fate of the British Magical World depends on it. I'll let Senior Account Manager Goldthorn tell you more.”

He gestured at the center goblin, who nodded before tapping a series of runes inscribed into the table in front of him. An orb sitting on a stand with feet shaped like dragons' claws appeared in front of him. The orb itself had a golden mist contained within it that moved around in gentle patterns. Goldthorn reached out with one long finger and tapped the top of the orb with it. The mist swirled out of the orb, coalescing into the shape of James Potter from the waist up. He had a surprisingly serious look on his face as he stared out in front of him.

“I am James Fleamont Potter, Lord and Patriarch of the House of Potter. This is my living will, updated by Magic itself until the day I pass from this world and cross the Veil. No other wills or directives are valid, and any besides this one that are presented should not be considered right or honorable.

“First things first, our Secret Keeper is, or rather, was Peter Pettigrew. He is an unregistered Animagus with the form of a common garden rat. We let the idea that Sirius Black was our Secret Keeper leak out because he seemed the sensible choice given that he's one of my best friends. He was the perfect decoy.

“Second, if my wife Lady Lily Marie Potter nee Evans survives me, then she is to inherit all of the Potter titles, holdings, riches, and all that goes with them. If she dies at the same time or shortly after me, then our Magic-chosen Regent will oversee our holdings and titles until our daughter, Amaranth Euphemia Potter, comes of age. Gringotts is to continue with our investments save for the Order of the Phoenix. Those donations are to be stopped, as are any future transfers to Albus Dumbledore or anyone associated with him unless otherwise noted to our account manager, Goldthorn.

“Third, the care of our daughter, Amaranth Euphemia Potter, is to be assigned to the following people:

  * Merlin Ambrosius, who is to be Regent Potter, unless he'd rather not.

  * Sirius Black, her blood- and magic-sworn godfather. Sirius, we know of the effects the curses that you have been subjected to over your life, so if you want to adopt Mara as your daughter and heir in blood and magic, then we give you our blessing.

  * Lord Franklin and Lady Alice Longbottom, the latter of whom is her blood- and magic-sworn godmother.

  * Dowager Lady Augusta Longbottom, if her son and daughter-in-law are incapable of doing so.

  * Remus Lupin, who is to be provided with either a safe place to transform during the full moon from one of the Potter holdings or unlimited access to the newly-developed Wolfsbane Potion, whichever he would prefer. The funds are to be taken from the main Potter Family vault and a minder is to be appointed for Amaranth while Remus is indisposed during the full moons.

  * Severus Snape, Potions Master. Snape, there are many things I regret in this world, and the foolish and cruel actions I and others brought upon you are amongst them. I release you from the life debt that hung between us and ask you not blame Amaranth for my sins against you.




“At no point is Amaranth to be entrusted to the care of Albus Dumbledore nor Petunia and/or Vernon Dursley, Lady Potter's Muggle sister and brother-in-law. The former will merely treat Amaranth as a weapon to be used against the Dark Lord Voldemort because of a prophecy given by Sybil Trelawney, and the latter will not raise her properly as they are firmly against magic and all it stands for, and will likely take it out on her.

“The full prophecy is as follows:

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark them as his equal, but they will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._

“We and the Longbottoms were told this by Albus Dumbledore a few months before our children were due to be born due to the fact that the four of us met the requirements laid out by the prophecy. He suggested we go into hiding immediately, leaving the 'obvious' targets of our ancestral manors and using smaller houses elsewhere. Lily and I volunteered to move into a house in Godric's Hollow while the Longbottoms stayed in their manor. We hid behind the Fidelius charm, trusting that it would hold. Obviously, since this will has activated, it has not, and Peter Pettigrew is a traitor to his friends and the Wizarding World. He is no longer considered a brother to any of us and his blood-sworn title as a Marauder is null and void.”

The recording paused in its speaking, and the image of James ran its hand over its face.

“We had a visitor several days before All Hallow's Eve that was entirely unexpected,” it continued on after a long moment. “He walked through our wards and Fidelius like they weren't even there. When he explained who he was and why he was there, we were stunned. He introduced himself as Merlin Emrys, and that he was there because Amaranth is the Magic-chosen heiress of Arthur Pendragon, making her the future queen of Magical Britain and Avalon. Merlin can explain more, of course, but we don't want this information to get out at all until the time is right. All of you are here because we trust you to help guide Amaranth to be a just and fair ruler when the time comes.

“We do ask that you let her be a child as she grows. Don't let her future duties engulf her whole childhood. Now, her name is already down for Hogwarts, and we don't know what would happen if she goes to a different magical school for her education now that she has such a heavy responsibility tied to Avalon and the British Magical World. Goldthorn, we ask you to research possibilities of alternate schools if Albus Dumbledore is still Headmaster when she turns eleven. If she is not able to go to a different school, then we ask you all as a group to ensure that he does not try to or succeed in his plans for her. Be her council, support, and parents as needed, and protect her fiercely.

“Now, as for bequests, Goldthorn is aware of them and you and those not here at this reading will be given envelopes with itemized lists of what you will receive. Any and all funds will be transferred immediately to your vaults, or, if you do not have a vault, one of the smaller personal Potter vaults will be given to you after the funds in it are transferred over to the main vault. Goldthorn, recall all Potter heirlooms and artifacts to the main Family vault. You may take all goblin-wrought items save for Gryffindor's sword, which as you know was gifted to Godric and not bought by him, which leaves the sole ownership within the Potter bloodline in perpetuity.

“A chest of memory orbs has been left in the main Potter vault for Amaranth to view on each of her birthdays and significant holidays until she comes of age. Please make sure she knows that she was dearly and fiercely loved by her Mum and Dad in the brief time we got to spend with her.

“One final thing. Assuming that Dumbledore goes against our wishes and somehow gains guardianship over Amaranth, however briefly, we authorize a full and deep magical scan on her to ensure she is of good health and is not laboring under any curses, blocks, or other magical or physical ailments. Also, since she is a target of Voldemort, the scan is doubly necessary to ensure he does not harm her irreparably in his desire to see the prophecy fulfilled. The funds for this can be taken from the main Potter vault.

“These are the last and final words and wishes of Lord James Fleamont Potter and Lady Lily Marie Potter. May Amaranth grow up knowing and living our family motto: _Robur fortitudinis gloriam_ , strength in bravery and honor. May the Lady guide and protect you all.”

The image faded away, the mist returning to the orb before dimming now that the will had been heard. There was a thick blanket of silence laying across the room, with the only sounds coming from the playpen where Neville had fallen asleep and Amaranth was quick on the way to join him, though she'd perked up briefly when she'd heard James' voice. She'd settled back down once the will stopped playing, dropping off to sleep while curled up against Neville's back.

Alice sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Frank slid his arm around her back, pulling her close. She leaned into him, doing her best to regain her composure.

“So,” Merlin said, breaking the silence after a while, “Amaranth is in need of a health and magic scan. I would suggest that Neville undergo one if he's been in Dumbledore's presence for longer than a few minutes recently, just in case.”

“Our cursebreakers and healers can help with that,” Goldthorn said, speaking for the first time since the others had arrived. “As Lord Potter instructed, the costs for Heiress Potter's tests will be taken from the main Potter vault.”

“And Neville's will be taken from ours,” Frank said firmly. “We want him to be as healthy as possible.”

“Of course,” Goldthorn said with a nod. “The Goblin Nation is at your disposal.”

“Perfect. Now, Severus, I made a promise to you earlier,” Merlin said. “However, I do ask one more thing of you before I fulfill it.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “What would that be?”

“That you work to let go of your emnity with Sirius and Remus here,” Merlin replied. “I'm not asking for an immediate change, but it would be in accordance to Lord and Lady Potter's last wishes as well. Constant fighting would not be good for anyone, least of all young Amaranth.”

Severus' jaw tightened as he looked over at Sirius and Remus, the former of which didn't look particularly happy about the whole thing. The Potions Master let out a slow breath before nodding tersely. “Fine, if they do the same,” he said finally, biting out the words. Remus nodded, elbowing Sirius until he begrudgingly agreed to do the same.

“Good.” Merlin got to his feet, gesturing for Severus to do the same. “With your permission, honored goblins, I ask to cast a strong privacy ward in that corner so I can fulfill my promise.” He gestured at the corner across from the playpen where a small two-seat couch was placed.

“You may,” Goldthorn agreed. “Once you are finished with that, we need to set up an identity for you to take up your place as the Potter Regent without question.”

“Hm... How about Lord Merle Ambrose?” Merlin said with an amused smirk. “Close, but not quite.”

“Perhaps a little too close?” Augusta suggested. Merlin shrugged.

“Maybe so, but knowing most of the British Wizarding World as I do, no one will really notice,” Merlin said, “especially if I simply go by Lord Ambrose most of the time.”

“Using Pureblood protocol against them. Nice,” Sirius said with a snicker as Merlin directed Severus to sit on the couch before a heavy privacy ward went up, blocking them from view. The ward came down fifteen minutes later, with Severus looking deathly pale and a sheen of sweat on his face. He was staring down at his bare left arm, running shaky fingers over the clear skin that rested there now. Merlin looked better than Severus but still rather strained, even with his greater magical power.

Merlin returned to the conference table, leaving Severus to recover on the couch while he spoke with Goldthorn. The two other goblins had been dispatched to get the ritual rooms set up for Neville and Amaranth's checkups. They returned several minutes later, requesting that Merlin and the two younger Longbottoms follow them with Amaranth and Neville. Merlin paused before casting a temporary sleep spell over Amaranth, not wanting her to wake during the ritual. He carefully picked her up, cradling her against his body as he followed the goblins out of the room, Alice and Frank trailing after him with Neville in Alice's arms.

They split up once they reached the ritual rooms, Merlin following the goblins' instructions and laying Amaranth on the low altar in the center of the room before stepping outside the ritual circle. The goblins set to work, their wild magic rising and then washing over the young girl in the middle of the room. A heavy scroll popped into existence out of thin air in front of the goblin who was leading the ritual after about ten minutes or so, hovering there at eye level.

She reached out and plucked it out of the air, unrolling it and reading it over before barking out orders in the goblins' native tongue. Her fellows scrambled to do as she wanted, one fetching a crystalline orb that they then levitated to hover two feet over Amaranth's body. The ritual resumed, the magic swelling to almost unbearable heights. The thin scar that marred Amaranth's forehead began to bleed heavily before black vapor escaped it after a minute or two of vigorous chanting.

The vapor rose up in an angry cloud, roiling like a stormcloud. It kept rising, only to be stopped by the orb, which began to draw the vapor within itself. The vapor struggled against the pull but couldn't resist entirely, eventually becoming trapped inside it with no escape no matter how much it tried. Merlin watched it avidly, his curiosity burning at what it might be. The goblins ended the ritual with a broad-spectrum healing spell that entirely erased any sign of the scar from Amaranth's forehead and removed the blood as well, leaving her clean and surprisingly, still fast asleep.

“The results of the ritual will be discussed once we are back in safe territory,” the head goblin said, directing the crystal orb to a heavily warded and rune-lined silver chest that one of her associates was holding. The orb fit snugly inside the small velvet-lined chest, the lid closing with a heavy _thunk_ of a lock engaging. One order later and the goblin holding the chest had removed it from the ritual room, spiriting it away to a far more secure location deep in the bowels of the bank.

Merlin nodded before retrieving Amaranth, bringing her back to the conference room just after the Longbottoms had returned with Neville. The goblin who had led the ritual handed the scroll over to Goldthorn while Merlin carefully placed Amaranth back into the playpen. The sleep spell would wear off in a half hour or so, and she would wake naturally when her body demanded it. Severus had recovered enough by then to move back to the table, though he still looked paler than usual.

“What were the results of the ritual?” Remus asked curiously once the wards had been activated fully again. Goldthorn unrolled the scroll, a scowl forming and then deepening the more he read. Goblins weren't particular fond of most of Wizarding-kind, but they hated two things in the world almost more than losing money: abuse of a child, regardless of species, and Infernal Magics, which were considered the blackest of Dark Arts and dealt death and destruction whenever and wherever they were performed.

“Heiress Potter is very lucky to have been brought here today,” he said, setting the scroll down on the table. “She had a number of limiting blocks and nets on her magical core. The ritual recorded the magical signature that was unique to them since they had been placed so recently. More importantly, a soul shard was removed from her scar, which was healed. She is free of any taint of Infernal Magics or the limiters and blocks.”

“A soul shard?” Augusta asked, a hand pressed over her heart. “Seriously? She had a piece of _Voldemort_ in her?”

“No. She had a piece of...” Goldthorn glanced at the scroll again. “...Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as the Dark Lord Voldemort. It is far too small to be half his soul, so we will use what we captured to track down the rest of them.”

“I'll help find them,” Sirius and Severus said almost in unison. They exchanged surprised looks before Sirius nodded slowly but surely.

“For Amaranth and the rest of the kids who deserve not to live in fear of the Dark Wanker,” he said, earning a wry smile from Severus in agreement.

“He was, wasn't he?” he said. “His ideas sounded good at first, but eventually they turned into nothing more than anger and destruction.”

“That's often how the rhetoric of madmen goes, lad,” Merlin said rather kindly. “You're free of him now. It's time to make your own way through the world and decide what kind of person you want to be. That goes for all of you.”

Severus sat back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face.

“Very well,” Goldthorn said, resting his hands on the table in front of him. “Master Ambrosius-- or rather, Lord Ambrose –once we are done here, we will get you the Potter Regent ring, your House and identity established, and a ring and seal made for them. Where will Heiress Potter be staying?”

Merlin rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Well, is Potter Manor still standing?”

“Yes,” Goldthorn replied. “You'll learn its protected location once you put on the Regent ring.”

“Then we can live there.” He turned to the others. “You are all welcome there. Remus, Severus, Sirius, I would love to have you living there to help with Amaranth if you like. I'll be bonding with house elves, of course, to help around the house, but I don't just want to leave her with a nursery elf.”

“I'd love to join you there,” Remus said. “I'll take the Wolfsbane during full moon so she's safe.”

“I'll join you as well,” Sirius said. “I'm not going to let Mara go without her uncle Padfoot.”

Severus considered it before nodding. “I will join you as well,” he decided. “That way I can brew the Wolfsbane potion for you, Lupin. I'll have to speak to Dumbledore. He's sent me a missive asking me to take over the Potions Master position at Hogwarts.”

“Which you won't be taking,” Merlin said. “He can find someone else. As we spoke about earlier, there's no need for you to be trapped in a place that would cause you to stagnate and wither.”

“What will I do for a job, then?”

“Perhaps your own apothecary?” Merlin suggested. “Or something similar. I'm sure we'll figure something out that will benefit all of us.”

“Of course.” Severus carefully got to his feet, stretching out his limbs. “I think I'm going to go sleep for a month.”

“War is tiring,” Frank said, standing as well. “Senior Account Manager Goldthorn, thank you for your work today. Please take the funds for your time out of the Longbottom accounts, plus... Hm... Two percent interest as a token of our appreciation.”

“Thank you, Lord Longbottom,” Goldthorn said, watching the others get up. “Ah. Before you go... Heir Black, your ring is still waiting for you.” Sirius stared at him in surprise.

“That's impossible,” he said finally. “I was disowned.”

“Your mother may have publicly cast you out of your childhood home, but the Patriarch of your House, Lord Arcturus Black the Third, has not exiled you from your Family nor removed you from your status as primary Heir,” Goldthorn told him. “I would suggest taking up your ring and then visiting him as soon as you can.”

“I...” Sirius dragged a hand over his face before sighing heavily. “Yeah. If nothing else, it'll make my mum mad.”

“That's surprisingly not the worst reason I've heard for someone to take up their ring,” Goldthorn said dryly. He snapped his fingers, causing two ring boxes to appear on the table. One had the Black Family crest on it while the other had the Potter Family crest. Merlin reached out and flipped open the top of the Potter ring box, barely hesitating before sliding the signet ring inside onto his left little finger. It flashed with magic before resizing itself to be at a perfect fit, marking him as the Potter Regent. The ring was made from platinum; a carnelian was set into the top with the reversed Potter crest engraved into it. Merlin would be able to use it to press into wax to seal a letter or authorize a purchase at many shops on Diagon and at the bank. It would also grant him the use of the Potter Wizengamot seat and the votes associated with it.

Sirius hesitated far longer before opening the Black ring box. The ring within was meant to be worn on his right ring finger, and was therefore a little bigger than the Potter Regent ring. It was made of white gold with a piece of jet set into the top, the reversed Black crest picked out on the stone in gold so it was highly visible. Sirius took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then picked up the ring before putting it on his right ring finger. There was a short delay before the ring flashed and then resized itself, settling firmly on his finger.

“Very good,” Goldthorn said approvingly. Another snap of his fingers and the ring boxes disappeared, each going back to the appropriate vaults. “I will be in contact with you when we find out more about the soul shards that the Dark Lord made. Our cursebreakers will likely take care of most of them, but we may need contacts you have that would not ordinarily be available to us.”

He looked specifically at Augusta, who nodded once tersely. Her brother worked in the Department of Mysteries, though she had no idea exactly what he did there. She'd contact him if necessary. Hopefully he wouldn't, but she doubted he would mind helping if needed, especially if contacted directly by Gringotts.

The children were gathered up by their respective guardians or parents, with Merlin handing the now-awake but groggy Amaranth off to Sirius in order to get everything taken care of in regards to creating his Wizarding identity. Twenty minutes later and he was sporting a new ring on his right hand that was mithril with an sapphire set into it; the reversed crest was simple, being a merlin falcon in flight surrounded with a thick oval, much like an Egyptian cartouche. A vault was opened under his name and a moderate sum of Galleons was transferred to it from the main Potter vault as per the written instructions James and Lily had left.

Once that was done, the small party-- the Longbottoms had already left by then –left the bank, using a Portkey to travel to the gates of Potter Manor, deep in the Welsh countryside. The grounds beyond the gates looked unkempt and wild, with only a crumbling ruin to be seen. Merlin pressed his ring against the depression on the coat of arms worked into the metal of the gates, waiting until the wards settled over him in a welcoming blanket before the gates swept open, revealing the fact that the manor and grounds were actually pristine and well-kept. The illusion only occurred when the gates were closed, keeping out any curious Muggles or wandering wizards.

They settled in at the Manor, taking over one of the sitting rooms on the ground floor. Remus transfigured a pillow into a playpen and a few others into toys for Amaranth before sitting down in an overstuffed armchair.

“What a day,” he said, running a hand over his face.

“Agreed,” Severus replied, sitting down as well. Merlin took a seat in a rocking chair, closing his eyes as he sorted through the information the wards were throwing at him. Sirius had kept hold of Amaranth all throughout, settling down on the floor near the crackling fireplace and Summoning one of the toys from the playpen with his wand before handing the soft plush to the young witch who was now sitting in front of him. They watched her happily playing with the toy, wondering what the future would bring for her and the rest of them.

 


	3. Chapter Three: Bees, Banks, and Blacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying something a little different with the goblins in this chapter; more specifically goblin society. It's more a test to see if I can write a person/being in a particular style than anything else, but also a societal idea that intrigues me.

An eagle owl winged its way towards Hogwarts, a letter tied to its left leg. A special medallion hung against its chest, the Gringotts crest worked into the metal glinting in the sun. It caught an updraft, soaring up towards the Headmaster's office before gliding through the specially enchanted glass of the stained glass owl window. It landed on the perch kept there just for that purpose, ruffling its wings as it waited to be attended to. Fawkes let out a soft warbling cry in greeting, earning a quiet hoot in reply from the owl.

The Headmaster was busy examining several delicate silver contraptions on his desk, occasionally poking at one with his wand or tapping another a few times in a specific sequence. When Dumbledore didn't pay attention to it after after a solid ten minutes of waiting, the owl gave a loud and rather imperious hoot. Dumbledore didn't look away from his work, merely flicking his wand in the owl's general direction to attempt to Summon the letter.

However, the owl and its burdens it carried were protected by the extensive charms and enchantments the goblins had laid on its medallion. When the letter didn't come floating over to him, Dumbledore finally turned to properly look at the owl, his eyes widening when he saw the Gringotts medallion.

“Ah! My apologies, my friend,” he said, rising from his seat and then going over to the owl perch. He relieved the owl of its burden and then stepped back to allow it to take flight. The owl ruffled its wings before launching itself off the perch, doing a quick lap around the office and then exiting the way it came. Fawkes watched Dumbledore open the letter, read a few lines in, and then rush to the Floo, disappearing in a flash of green flames with a cry of “ _Gringotts!_ ”, the letter fluttering to the floor.

Curious, Fawkes glided over to where the letter lay on the floor. He cocked his head, running one beady black eye over the words.

 

_Albus Dumbledore,_

_Due to the will of Lord James and Lady Lily Potter being read, the bequest that you have been granted has been enacted and any monetary values placed into your personal account. The exact wording of the bequest is to be found below:_

 

_**To Albus Dumbledore, our mentor and former Headmaster: we leave two thousand Galleons and a ten-year supply of lemon sherbets from Honeydukes, one year each for the time we've had you in our lives. May you enjoy them in our memory.**_

 

_Come to the bank in order to collect your bequest and the voucher for Honeydukes. Ask for Teller Dragonblade when you arrive. If you do not do this within three days' time of receiving this letter, the voucher will be placed in your vault for you to claim later._

  


_Senior Account Manager Goldthorn_

  


Fawkes let out a confused warble, his head cocking further before he shook himself out and then returned to his perch. The Headmaster was such an odd human, even for a wizard. Fawkes tucked his head under his wing, intent on getting a good nap in before Dumbledore came back. Maybe he'd even dream again of the one to unite and rule Avalon. He always liked that dream.

-/-

The arriving Floo at Gringotts was not open to the general public, but rather selectively connected to a short list of the bank's most wealthy and/or influential account holders. Even then, it was kept in a highly monitored area of the bank, with two guards in the receiving room around the clock. The beginnings and ends of their shifts varied every day so no one could try to figure out their patterns and sneak in during a gap in a late-night shift change.

The two guards currently on duty saw the Floo flare and then spit out a harried looking Albus Dumbledore clad in soot-covered robes that had moving planets and shooting stars traveling over its midnight-blue fabric. They watched him go, one waiting until he'd been gone for a minute or so before leaning over to their companion and muttering in the goblin tongue.

“ _Who won the pool on that one_?”

“ _Axejaw, the lucky slaghead_ ,” the other guard grunted in the same tongue after a moment's calculation. “ _Damn, now I owe them a case of honey wine._ ”

“ _It could be worse_ ,” the first guard said.

“ _How so_?”

“ _You're not the one having to deal with Dumbledore right now._ ”

There was a thoughtful pause at that as both of them considered the idea.

“ _Suddenly, I pity Goldthorn_.”

“ _Too right_.”

 

Albus strode through the lobby of the bank, maneuvering around other patrons as he absently used his wandless magic to remove the ash and soot from his robes. He slid past a wizard bickering with his husband and managed to get to the front of a momentarily free teller's line. He smiled warmly at the teller, though the smile barely reached his eyes.

“Hello. I'm here to speak to Senior Account Manager Goldthorn. Please let him know I'm here.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Albus' smile froze some, his beard mostly hiding it from view. “Not at the moment, but I'm sure he'll be happy to see me. I'm one of his best clients, after all.”

The goblin stared at him for a long moment before writing a quick note in a jagged script on a slip of parchment and then slipping it into a slot on the desk. Barely a minute later and a different slip of parchment popped up out of the slot. The goblin read it, nodded, and then hopped down to the floor, gesturing shortly for Albus to follow before moving from behind the teller desk and starting to cross the lobby.

Albus did so, mind racing. He wished he'd seen what had been written on the parchments the goblin had sent and received. He'd learned the goblin tongue but had never quite gotten the hang of the written script the smaller beings used, particularly those of the banking clans. Each clan had their own variant as well as a more universal script used in their joint day-to-day work. All of the goblins' written languages were held as secrets to bank employees and goblins only, and part of the oaths given by the non-goblin workers at the bank when they were first employed was to never share the secret of the written languages of their employers, even after they left their jobs there.

He shook himself out of his thoughts once the goblin had taken him through several winding hallways and then left him at the door to Goldthorn's office. Albus readied himself before knocking on the door.

“Enter!” came the reply through the heavy wood of the door. Albus swept into the room, intent on showing that he had the power in the situation. Goblins respected power and wealth, after all.

“Mister Dumbledore,” Goldthorn said, looking up from the various bits of parchment on his desk. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, Goldthorn, old friend,” Albus said, shutting the door behind himself before taking a seat on the chair in front of Goldthorn's desk. “I received your owl and came to speak to you about it.”

Goldthorn merely looked at him, not saying anything. Albus waited patiently, folding his hands in his lap. He was used to politics. Playing the waiting game was old hat to him. The silence stretched between them for a good five minutes until Albus spoke again.

“It was in regards to the Potter Will,” he prompted. “The Wizengamot sealed it two days ago for young Amaranth Potter's safety. It shouldn't have been read.”

Goldthorn arched an eyebrow at that but still didn't speak, instead turning his attention back to his parchmentwork as if Albus wasn't even there. Albus bit back an annoyed huff and tried once more.

“If you tell me why it was that the will was read, I'll do my best to make sure that the Ministry doesn't come down too hard on the bank for this misstep.”

Goldthorn continued to ignore him, the gentle scratching of his quill across the parchment only adding to Albus' annoyance. Albus gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep a civil tone as he spoke one last time.

“I'm sure we both have quite a few things to attend to today. Will you tell me why the will was read?”

Goldthorn looked up at that. He set his quill aside on a specially made rest that would keep the ink from dripping onto his desk and then focused on Albus. “Because Magic willed it and the primary beneficiaries were all there,” he replied, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. “The Wizengamot has no right to ban the reading of a noble's will, particularly not one of a Most Ancient and Noble House like that of the House of Potter or Black.”

“ _All_ of the primary beneficiaries?” Albus pressed, his breath catching in his chest. Goldthorn arched an eyebrow.

“All of them,” he confirmed calmly. “The will couldn't have been read otherwise.”

The color drained from Albus' face as he got hurriedly to his feet. “Was Amaranth Potter there?”

“Like I said, all the primary beneficiaries were there.”

Goldthorn snorted softly as Albus left the office in a rush at that. Wizards and witches were so strange. Goblins had it far easier. Take expression of gender, for example. To humans, it seemed like all the goblins they saw were male, leading to the misconception that the females were hidden away or were something the male of the species were ashamed of, thus leading to the common use of 'him' for any goblin they met, regardless of actual physical gender. That was hardly the case at all.

Goblin society was actually surprisingly gender-neutral, with the word for an individual translating closer to 'they' rather than 'he' or 'she'. Goblins as a species weren't too sexually dimorphic, with the females only slightly smaller and a little less boxy-shaped than the males. Armor and well-tailored clothing tended to hide the differences enough for the two genders to flow near-seamlessly together. The few obviously female goblins that had interacted with humans often had been wearing glamors to conform to the human perception of femininity, often to make more money or to be underestimated by those who'd seen them.

Goldthorn ran a hand over their face and then shook their head. Time was money, and they were wasting it by contemplating the idiocy of humans. No doubt Dumbledore would be back to demand to know where Amaranth Potter was, but for the time being, that was in the future. Besides, Goldthorn had no idea _exactly_ where Potter Manor was, just that it still existed. The location's Secret was kept by the reigning Lord, Lady, or Regent of House Potter, tied to the Familial magic of the rings. Merlin had created the Portkey that had taken them from the bank to the Manor, thus keeping the Secret intact throughout the centuries.

Goldthorn turned back to their parchmentwork and were soon immersed in the complex work that went into the upkeep of all the various vaults and accounts they were in charge of, humming the soft strains of an old goblin war song as they worked.

 -/-

While Dumbledore was running around both the Muggle and Magical worlds like a chicken with its head cut off in his attempt to find out Amaranth's location, Sirius was feeling more like an insect under a magnifying glass. His grandfather was watching him with a piercing gaze, his more advanced age hardly showing. He was still relatively young for a wizard, as those with magic tended to live to at least a hundred and fifty years old, if not a little longer, so he'd really only hit middle age a few years ago. Most witches and wizards only died younger because of an accident, battle, disease, or some other magical malady that couldn't be cured with a potion or spell.

Sirius fought the urge to shift in his chair like a guilty child, instead drawing on his Auror training and the training his mother had, at times, literally beaten into him when he was younger to keep himself still, only occasionally taking a sip from the tea cup that had appeared on a saucer on the side table next to his chair. The tea was perfect, as no house elf bound to Arcturus Black would _ever_ dare to serve inferior tea to their Lord or any of his guests, and was just as Sirius preferred it, temperature and all. He reveled in it for the time he was able to, trying to savor the tea before it was gone or taken away from him.

“So,” Arcturus said once he'd finished his own tea, “you've finally taken up your Heir ring. Care to tell me why?”

“Mother told me I had been disowned when I was sixteen,” Sirius replied, setting down his teacup carefully on its saucer. “I went to live with the Potters at that time. She's always been disappointed in me that I was never a perfect Pureblood son and went into Slytherin like she wanted. I was at the Potter will reading when the account manager told me that the ring was still waiting for me.”

“Ah, you worked with Goldthorn, then?” Arcturus mused. “He's the account manager for quite a few of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses. As for your mother, she had no right to tell you that. She has no power to disown you, thus why the Heir ring was still waiting for you.”

He sighed softly. “I thought that by taking a step back from the day-to-day running of the Family, it would allow it to run more smoothly. It appears I was wrong. The very fact that your mother and father were married... I should have stepped in then. At least your cousins were able to marry out of the Family. I applaud young Andromeda. She married into fresh blood and brought forth an old Black gift that hasn't been seen in well over a century, if not longer.”

“So why was she disowned?”

“Yet again, she wasn't,” Arcturus replied. “Another mistake for me to rectify.” He sat back in his chair, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “I've let the House and Family languish for too long. It seems like it's time for me to step back into my proper role.” He smirked. “If nothing else, it'll give those blowhards in the Wizengamot something to think about.”

Sirius stared at his grandfather. He'd expected Pureblood rhetoric to be spewing from his mouth the moment he brought up Sirius taking up his Heir ring. Instead, Arcturus seemed to be surprisingly sane and reasonable. It was very disconcerting, especially given what his mother had said about him.

“So...” Sirius began, pausing momentarily before continuing on. “You don't hate Muggleborns?”

“I dislike the fact that Muggleborns don't pay attention to our values and traditions,” Arcturus said with a faint sneer, “but it's hardly through any fault of their own. They enter our world knowing very little and are taught near-nothing in regards to how things work. There used to be classes at Hogwarts about it as well as music, dance, and other electives, but Dumbledore successfully petitioned to get them removed.”

“Lily-- Lady Potter –she used to say that the Muggle Studies class was very out of date,” Sirius said with a small smile as he remember Lily's rants against the subject. “Did you know that the Muggles have been to the moon? They've sent a dozen men up there and brought them all back home successfully. The Muggles are advancing by leaps and bounds, and we talk about them as if they're nothing more than funny animals acting human.”

Arcturus leaned forward, an intrigued expression on his face. “They've gone to the moon and back? Truly? That's amazing. To be able to do something like that...” He smirked. “Maybe we should bring this to the attention of the Wizengamot. If nothing else, it'll stir them up and give them a good kick in the rear.”

Sirius smiled at that.“I think I know the perfect person to help with the classes at the very least,” he said. “Dowager Longbottom is well known for her dogged determination in getting change done, especially when it comes to the school. Her son is very much the same. Lord Longbottom is a good friend of mine. I can speak with him the next time I see him if you like.”

“Do so,” Arcturus agreed. “I'll be calling for a Family meeting soon enough where I confirm you're my Heir.”

“Alright. About that,” Sirius said. “I... James...” He closed his eyes momentarily, taking in a lungful of air before letting it out slowly and opening his eyes. “Lord Potter gave me leave to adopt his daughter as mine in blood and magic in his will. I can't have any biological children of my own due to several curses I took in the course of the war. I've gone to several healers and cursebreakers, but no one has been able to help. I would like your permission to take her as my Heir to help secure the direct line of succession.”

“Albus Dumbledore has assured the Wizengamot that the Heiress Potter is safe and sound hidden away from the Wizarding World,” Arcturus pointed out. “How would you make her your Heir if she's not available?”

Sirius smirked. “Albus Dumbledore doesn't know everything,” he replied. “She's safe and sound, and will be taught everything she needs to know according to her station when she's old enough. For now, she just needs to be an almost-two year old.”

“And who will be teaching her how to be a proper Pureblood witch?” Arcturus asked.

“She's hardly going to be a weak-willed fashion plate,” Sirius said with a scowl. Arcturus merely raised an eyebrow.

“I never said she would be,” he said calmly. “She will need to learn the Old Ways from proper witches. She has a godmother, yes?”

“Yes, Lady Longbottom,” Sirius replied. “If she's willing, maybe Narcissa would be willing to tutor her, assuming her husband lets her.”

“Mm. Narcissa was never Marked at all and Lord Malfoy was unwillingly Marked,” Arcturus said idly as he snapped his fingers. His teacup refilled itself due to house elf magic, steam gently rising from the surface of the milky tea within. “His marriage contract with young Narcissa is still valid. It would have been declared invalid due to the fidelity clauses worked into it if he had.”

He sipped at his tea, looking entirely unconcerned that he'd just shattered some of Sirius' long-held preconceptions. Lucius Malfoy hadn't been a willingly Marked follower of Voldemort. That didn't excuse what the man had done, but if the contract was unbroken, then releasing that information to the public might be beneficial to both the Blacks and others. Having someone of Lucius' political standing on their side might not be such a bad thing in the long run.

“Huh,” Sirius said as he digested that information. “When will the Family meeting be called?”

“On the next new moon, as it should be,” Arcturus said. “You have my permission to adopt young Amaranth as your Heir and daughter in blood and magic at that time. I won't pressure you to marry, though having a bonded wife or Consort would help stabilize your magic even further.”

“I know, but I'm more focused on Amaranth right now,” Sirius said. “I want to honor James and Lily with the trust they placed in me.”

“And I'm sure you will.” Arcturus set his tea down. “You mentioned in your letter that you had far graver news to share with me that could end the threat of the Dark Lord permanently.”

Sirius nodded and then began to talk, trusting in his grandfather's vaunted privacy wards to keep the information protected. They spoke late into the night, drinking many pots of tea and healing wounds that had lain open and festering for years on end.

 


	4. Chapter Four: Chateau Noir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an abiding love for portrayals of a loving Malfoy Family, so that's what you're getting here. Enjoy.

The next new moon was November 27th of that year, a little under a month before the Winter Meet of the Wizengamot. Arcturus summoned all of the living members of the Black Family, both those who were still living under the Black name or those who had married into or out of the Family; their spouses and children were there as well. Arcturus made sure that those who had been told they'd been disowned and/or cast out of the Family had arrived several hours before the others, explaining the truth of the situation to them. To say that surprise was a prevalent emotion amongst them would be an understatement.

The eldest of them, Cedrella Weasley nee Black, took it in stride, though Andromeda was rather emotional, confusing her daughter greatly. Arcturus rather liked young Nymphadora. The eight year old was insatiably curious, and her hair changed with the whim of her emotions or when she was trying to focus particularly hard. She was working on consciously changing her body mass and face, but so far it was pretty much ruled by her subconscious mind. Arcturus made a mental note to fetch the journals of the last known Black Metamorphmagus from the library vault for her before she went to Hogwarts.

The rest of the Family filtered into the auxiliary ballroom of Chateau Noir, the ancestral seat of the House of Black, over the next hour or so, with neatly uniformed house elves guiding them to various table that had been set up near a set of French doors that led out onto a neatly manicured lawn. If there was even a hint of aggression between members of the Family, the house elves had free rein to silence and/or temporarily stick the offenders to their seats. The Malfoys were the last to arrive, with a sleepy looking Draco being held securely in Lucius' arms.

Once everyone had sat down and had been served drinks, Arcturus stepped up onto a raised platform so everyone could see him properly. He held up his hands, quelling the conversations that had sprung up with a practiced ease.

“Welcome, one and all, to this Gathering,” he said, his voice easily heard regardless of where one was in the room. “Thank you for taking time out of your undoubtedly busy lives to come here tonight. I will do my best to keep this simple and to the point.”

He waited for any comments before continuing on, bracing himself for the reaction that was surely to come.

“The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black is a disgrace to Magic and Avalon, and, in it is current state, is something I find to be contemptible.”

An immediate backlash of angry outcries and protests washed over him, but Arcturus stood firm, holding up his hands for silence. Once he got it, he started speaking again.

“Allow me to explain what I mean by that. Look around you. We have lost far too many of our Family members to the two most recent Blood Wars, first with Grindelwald and then with Voldemort. I am ashamed of those who fought for them. They went directly against our core tenet: _Toujours Pur—_ Always Pure. It means not that we should always stay pure of blood, but that we remain loyal to Avalon and the House of Black, no others. There are precious few here who have lived up to that.

“We stand at a precipice now that the Second Blood War is over. We can continue on with the path this House has been going on, relying on our money and the deeds of our ancestors to carry our name, or we can stop and take stock of what's to come in the future. We can place ourselves in a prime position to help guide the Wizarding World for years to come.”

“What do you know that we don't?” Druella Black asked curiously when it looked like Arcturus was done speaking. “Why this sudden change?”

“I have sat back and let the House edge too close to ruin and end. There is only _one_ direct male descendant of the main Black Line alive due to this insanity with Voldemort,” Arcturus replied seriously. “He is unable to have a natural heir due to curses he has taken throughout his life.”

Walburga snorted sharply. “My worthless spawn of a son has been disinherited and tossed out of the Family,” she said. “He's hardly a good heir.”

“And yet the Heir ring accepted him easily,” Arcturus replied. “Sirius is the official Heir to the House of Black, and that won't change regardless of you burning his image off a _priceless tapestry_. You had no right to do that, Walburga. That was a centuries-old magical artifact that was woven by one of the last full-blooded Elven weavers before they left this realm. The moment you got here, I sent the house elves to fetch the tapestry from Grimmauld Place as well as any near or fully Infernal artifacts that may be stored there, as well as in any vaults owned by a member of the Black Family, dowry, personal, or otherwise. They will be sent to the goblins to be destroyed in their Fiendfyre furnace since they hate the Infernal just as much as we do. We are _not_ consorting with the Infernal, and no one besides the current Lord or Lady of the House can disown and/or disinherit anyone, which is why those who were _supposedly_ thrown out of the Family and are still living are here. We are stronger together than apart, even if we don't all agree with one another.”

As he spoke, the Family magic rolled out in waves from him, touching all those who were tied to the Black Family in the room and beyond. Arcturus noticed when Lucius twitched and then went pale at the proclamation against Infernal magics and artifacts and made a mental note to talk to him later in the night.

“The events of this night are to be considered a Family Secret,” Arcturus finished up, his voice heavily laden with magical power. “No one may speak of them outside of the Family. May Magic lock the information away in your souls and minds so that no one can take it from you. Nor can anyone use this information or the events that happen tonight against members of this Family nor to their own gain. So say I, so mote it be!”

The magic washed over the inhabitants of the room, sealing what had already been said and what was to come away so not even the most skilled Legilimens or torturer could glean the information from their minds, not even the youngest members of the Family who had no sort of mental shielding whatsoever. There were those who didn't look too happy about it, particularly the caveat about not being able to use what they learned to further their own plans and plots.

“Now that that's said, all of you are to follow me out to the standing circle,” Arcturus said as he stepped down off his platform, the house elves making it vanish once he was safely on solid ground. “We are welcoming a new member into our House by a ritual of Magic and Blood. Come. I will need all of your support, magical and otherwise.”

He led the way out of through the French doors, the others following after him as he made his way down the gently sloping lawn to the standing circle. The elves had been busy at work there as well, setting up dozens of floating paper lamps around and over the circle that bathed it in a gently flickering golden light. Sirius was waiting there with a dozing Amaranth in his arms. He wore plain black winter robes, his hair pulled back neatly at the back of his neck with a dragon bone hair clasp artfully carved in the long, sinuous shape of an Eastern-style dragon. Amaranth was bundled up against the cold, wrapped up in a dark green blanket with gentle warming charms woven into it with each stitch.

Arcturus stepped into the circle of standing stones first, invoking the deep seated Family magic to rise and saturate the area. He turned when he reached the center, his hand stretching out to Sirius.

“Come, Sirius Orion, and present your heir,” he called out. Sirius took in a steadying breath before stepping into the circle, shivering despite the warmth the gathered magic brought with it. He stopped in front of Arcturus, his head held high.

“I present Amaranth Euphemia Potter, my blood- and oath-sworn goddaughter to be my heir and daughter by Blood and Magic. This was a final wish of her late and much beloved Patriarch, James Fleamont Potter, who I considered my brother in all but blood.”

“Do you vow to care for her as if she were your natural born heir, to teach her both the Ways of her birth Family and of ours, becoming a third parent to her in Blood and Magic?”

“I do.”

“Do you vow to raise her to be a credit to Avalon and her Families?”

“I do.”

“And finally, do you vow that even if you do have blood born heirs in the future, that you will not cast her aside in their favor?”

“I do.”

Arcturus nodded and then took a gleaming silver knife out of a sheath on his belt. He took Sirius' free hand, cutting its thumb and then dragging it gently along Amaranth's forehead, leaving a red swathe behind. The cut healed the moment the thumb was lifted away. Arcturus added his own blood, the magic gathered around them heaving.

“Nymphadora, Narcissa, Cedrella-- Maiden, Mother, Matron --will you welcome Amaranth into the Family as the newest Daughter of the House of Black?” Arcturus asked.

Narcissa and Cedrella stepped forward, the house elves quickly Silencing Walburga's protests at not being called up for either the Mother or Matron role. Nymphadora entered the circle after a brief argument with her mother, her steps surprisingly sure and steady when compared to her usual clumsiness. The three witches each added their blood to Amaranth's forehead, the Family magic flaring and then swirling in on Amaranth as the blood disappeared, sinking into her skin.

A circular wave of golden energy surged out from Amaranth's body, rippling out to touch each member of the Family that was gathered around the circle and those who were not there. Far away in Azkaban, Bellatrix and her husband let out low, pain filled cries that went unnoticed in the general soundtrack of screams, moans, and groans. The deep connection Amaranth had with the magics of Avalon and the Pendragon legacy broke their ties to the Black Family magics for their betrayals to the Family and the magical realm, leaving little for their magical cores to subsist on besides the faint ambient magic in the air around them.

They would be dead within the year and buried in the small graveyard on the island, with only a perfunctory letter sent to Arcturus several weeks after the fact. They were mourned but only quietly, their wedding portrait in the portrait hall of Chateau Noir being shrouded in the traditional sheer black cloth for a year and a day, as was the custom in Pureblood families.

Those who were gathered around the standing stones felt a rush of heat run through them, though how said rush affected them was different depending on who they were. Most were comforted by it, though to several, it was highly uncomfortable and even a little painful. It was meant as a warning: tread too close to betraying Avalon or the Houses of Black and/or Potter in deed, thought, or word and pay the price.

All throughout the ritual, Amaranth had stayed asleep, only stirring when the rush of magic settled and then faded away. She opened her eyes, a confused noise leaving her as she looked up at Sirius. “Pad?” she mumbled, squirming a little in his arms. Sirius noticed that her eyes had shifted color a little, gaining a tiny bit of a gray shade to the vibrant green. It wasn't enough to erase the legacy Lily had left her daughter, but it certainly made her look as if Sirius had been one of her biological parents. Her facial structure had changed slightly as well, her jawline and cheekbones becoming a little sharper than they had been before, gaining more of the subtle Black features. Her hair remained mostly the same, though it lay a little more smoothly on her head now.

“I'm here, Pup,” Sirius replied, shifting her up in his arms so he could kiss her forehead. “Everything's okay.”

“ 'Kay?” Amaranth repeated before turning her head to look at the others still gathered nearby. Her eyes widened when she saw the brilliant pink shade that Nymphadora's hair was at the moment, and she reached out her arms towards her, hands opening and closing in a grabby motion. “Ooh!”

Sirius chuckled. “I think she likes your hair, kiddo,” he said. Nymphadora grinned and then screwed up her face, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth as she concentrated. Her neatly braided hair shifted from pink to lime green to-- and this was a favorite of hers –a banana yellow with jet black stripes. Amaranth giggled mightily, her hands clapping in joy.

“Hey there, little cousin,” Nymphadora replied, her hair going back to the standard pink as she relaxed. “It's nice not to be the only girl in the family any more.”

“And what are we, then?” Cedrella teased gently, gesturing between herself and Narcissa, who was looking on with a smile.

“You're _grown-ups_ ,” Nymphadora replied promptly, turning to look up at her elder cousin several times removed. “There aren't any girls _my_ age or younger in the Family.”

“Ah, I see. Well, in that case, continue on,” Cedrella said, looking highly amused. Nymphadora smiled up at her and then turned back to Amaranth.

“I'm Nymphadora,” she continued on, her nose wrinkling at the name, “but you probably can't say that yet, huh?”

Amaranth just stared at her, still fascinated with the vibrant color of her hair. Nymphadora pouted at that, wanting a better reaction.

“Maybe we should just go with Dora for the time being?” Sirius suggested. “She'll get there eventually.”

That made the young girl perk up. “Dora... Yeah, that'll work. Dad calls me that anyways,” she said. “Everyone can call me that!” She looked up at Arcturus pleadingly. “Can you tell everybody to call me Dora instead? They have to listen to _you._ ”

Arcturus chuckled. “I can say that you would like to be called that, but I can't _force_ anyone to listen,” he said, kneeling down so he could be on a similar level to her. “Would you like it if I forced you to... I don't know …eat your least favorite food all the time or hop around on one foot to get from one place to another?”

Dora thought about it and then shook her head. “No,” she said finally.

“Neither would anyone else,” Arcturus said, “but you can _ask_ people to call you Dora. People often respond better when you ask rather than demand. You can open a lot more doors that way.”

Sirius let out a small laugh. “Teaching cunning early, Grandfather?” he asked dryly. “She's only eight.”

“It's never too early to learn manners, especially if it helps get one ahead in life,” Arcturus replied as he stood back up, absently brushing his knees off. “And that applies to everyone, regardless of what House they had been or may one day be Sorted into. Now that we're finished here, why don't we head back inside? I believe the elves have come up with a meal and some hot drinks that will help restore us.”

The Family went back into the castle, the house elves clearing away the paper lanterns and making sure everything was clean and no blood had been left behind to be used against anyone. Arcturus waited until the others were busy talking amongst themselves before discreetly approaching Lucius at the table he was sitting near.

“Lucius, a word?”

Lucius, who had been watching over Draco while Narcissa spoke with Andromeda for the first time in almost ten years, looked up from his sleeping son who was curled up in his lap, head resting against his father's shoulder.

“Lord Black,” he said, inclining his head. “Forgive me for not standing, but my hands are rather full.”

“No need to apologize,” Arcturus said, waving an idle hand as he sat down next to Lucius. He smiled down at Draco. “He looks quite a bit like you.”

“Yes, but his hair is closer to Narcissa's shade,” Lucius replied, running his fingers gently through Draco's hair as he spoke. “Something I am grateful for. The Malfoy blood tends to run strong.”

“Mm. Your father and grandfather shared similar looks, so I can see where you would get that idea,” Arcturus mused. He drew his wand, the tip twitching only a little as he cast a privacy ward around them before letting it return to its place in his wrist holster. “Your reaction earlier when I spoke about Infernal magics and artifacts... Is there something you wish to share with me?”

Lucius went still, staring out across the ballroom, his fingers still carding through Draco's hair. He watched Narcissa and Andromeda slowly warm up to one another again before letting out a soft sigh. “I was... entrusted with something most precious to the Dark Lord,” he began hesitantly, suddenly looking far older than his twenty-six years of age. “It reeks of his magic, twisted and cloying. It is very... potent. As if he were there in the room, almost.”

“Do you keep it in the same building as your son?”

Lucius briefly closed his eyes as if in pain. “Yes. Merlin, I didn't even _think_ \--”

“No, but you can stop and think now,” Arcturus said gently. “Take it to the goblins tomorrow. Have them destroy it before it can influence you, your wife, or your heir any further than it may already have. Infernal magic is not something you should dismiss or take lightly. I can send someone along with you to ensure it happens, just in case. Infernal magics... they will do anything to survive, and are often seductive. It's why they are to be feared and fought against at all costs. We might be more attuned to the Dark, but that doesn't mean we are evil.”

“Even after all that I've done, however unwillingly?” Lucius asked, looking down at Draco with a sad expression. “I fought against my brothers and sisters in magic all for a cause that saw more deaths than victories and ended only because of a surprisingly powerful child somehow defeating a madman. What _was_ that, anyways, during the ritual?”

“Something I had to swear a Vow on my magic and life never to discuss without prior permission with anyone else,” Arcturus said seriously. “It's why I sealed what happened under the aegis of a Family Secret so those who are too young or old to take such a Vow could be there without endangering themselves.”

Lucius took it in and then nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. “I'll take it to the goblins tomorrow. I would appreciate a companion as you suggested just in case.”

“I'll arrange it,” Arcturus promised. “When would be the best time?”

“Hm.” Lucius tipped his head back, thinking over his schedule for the following day. “Eleven in the morning will work the best. We have a healer's check up for Draco tomorrow at one, so we'll be on Diagon anyways. I can have Narcissa take him shopping while I'm at the bank.”

“Is he sick?”

“No, no, it's just a standard check up,” Lucius said. “He's almost a year and a half, after all.”

“Ah. That's good.” Arcturus got his feet, absently smoothing out his robes. “You were close to Severus Snape in school, yes?”

“Yes,” Lucius said, surprised. “We had an informal fostering/sponsor situation while I was at school, though his parents never let us make it formal.”

“Good. I'll ask him to be the one to accompany you,” Arcturus said. He made a thoughtful noise, one hand coming up to brush at his neatly trimmed goatee. “It's a pity that fostering and sponsoring new arrivals to the Magical world died off so much when the second Muggle World War began and Grindelwald rose to power.”

Lucius nodded. “Yes. That was during Dumbledore's time as Deputy Headmaster,” he mused. “My father and grandfather spoke of the fact that there were far more fostering and sponsoring situations for Muggleborns and half-bloods during their times at Hogwarts. Maybe it's time we try to bring it back. That, or a compulsory Introduction to the Magical World course for the Muggleborns for the first three years at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, Sirius was mentioning something similar in regards to Muggle Studies,” Arcturus said. “Apparently it's woefully out of date. The Muggles have been to the moon within the past decade, for example.”

Lucius stared up at him. “What, really?”

“Apparently so. I had some of my house elves get newspapers and books from the Muggle world talking about it. It's fascinating. Perhaps if we had something similar to that-- an Introduction to the Muggle World –during the first three years of Hogwarts, then the tensions would be lessened.”

“Huh. Definitely something to look into,” Lucius said thoughtfully. “Thank you. Going back to tomorrow, I'll look forward to seeing Severus. Just tell him to Floo over. He's already listed in the wards.”

“Very well, I'll let him know. Thank you, Lucius,” Arcturus said, drawing his wand again and then dispelling the privacy wards.

“No, thank _you_ ,” Lucius told him. “If you hadn't said anything, who knows what would've happened by keeping that thing in my manor for years on end.”

“Well, now you won't have to find out,” Arcturus said simply. “In regards to the fostering situation, perhaps it's something we should meet about before the Winter session. Sirius has a group of people from across the spectrum-- Dark, Gray, and Light –that he's allied with, all of whom have a voting seat on the Wizengamot. We can bring it up at the session in a month to see how people would react. If we can get it back into practice early enough, then by the time Draco and the other children his age-- or even Dora's age –start at Hogwarts, perhaps things will be easier for them.”

Lucius looked at him shrewdly. “Does this have anything to do with the vow you took?”

“Perhaps,” Arcturus replied mildly. “Have a good night, Lucius. I need to tend to the other guests and then send a few owls.”

“Of course.”

Arcturus stepped away, mingling with the rest of the Family as the night progressed. Narcissa rejoined Lucius and Draco after a while, looking far happier than she had in a while. Lucius smiled at her as she took a now-awake Draco from him, a few wisps of hair escaping from the intricate style she had put it in.

“Have a good conversation?” Lucius asked.

“Yes, I did,” Narcissa confirmed. “And you? I saw you speaking with Arcturus.”

“We had an interesting conversation,” Lucius said. “Would you mind if we go a little early to Diagon tomorrow? I have some private business at Gringotts I need to attend to with Severus. Perhaps you could take Draco shopping? I remember you had mentioned wanting to get him some more clothes.”

“He's growing so fast that the tailoring charms can't keep up. I also want to get some more blankets for him,” Narcissa said. “I wouldn't mind going early, and it's always pleasant to see Severus.”

“Wonderful.” Lucius leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek, earning a small, pleased smile from his wife. “He'll be Flooing over a little before eleven.”

“Alright,” Narcissa agreed easily. She kissed Draco on the top of his head as he yawned, looking all too ready to go back to sleep again. “Let's get home. I think it's time for our little Dragon to sleep.”

Lucius nodded as he stood, helping Narcissa up without jostling Draco too much. The three of them left via a one-way Portkey Arcturus had set up for them earlier, swirling back into reality in the secure receiving room of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa went to take Draco to bed while Lucius made his way to his office. He transfigured an old book into a lidded box that was lined with lead and silver, the advanced spellwork tiring him some. Once he was done, he went to the safe set behind a portrait of Armand Malfoy, the founder of the entire Malfoy Family, muttering the password and waiting for the portrait to swing forward before he pushed his magic into the safe and opening it.

The slim black book that lay on top of the pile of documents and other parchmentwork looked very innocent and innocuous if one wasn't attuned to the feel of the Dark Lord's magic. Unfortunately, Lucius knew exactly how that felt, and to him it made him feel ill and shaky. He levitated the book over to the box, not wanting to touch it with his bare hands, and then quickly sealed it inside, fusing the lid to the box without a seam so the Infernal magic contained within couldn't escape and manipulate him.

Lucius only breathed a sigh of relief once he had levitated the box into the safe and then locked everything up, activating the highest wards he could on the safe before leaving the office. Merlin, he'd be glad when that was out of his manor and possession entirely. He went to the bedchambers he shared with Narcissa, the tension bleeding out of him completely when he saw his Lady at her vanity, brushing her long hair as she got ready for bed.

“You look beautiful,” he said as he approached her from behind. She watched him come closer in the mirror, a slightly amused smile curving her lips.

“Oh? I look beautiful when I'm tired and ready to sleep?”

“You always look beautiful,” Lucius said, lightly wrapping his arms around her and then kissing her jaw. “You looked beautiful even after giving birth to our son. Speaking of, did he go to sleep well?”

“He did,” Narcissa said, leaning back against him. “Dobby is watching over him tonight.”

Lucius hummed, nuzzling at her skin. “Come to bed, my heart?”

“Of course, but you'll need to let me go first.”

Lucius sighed dramatically. “If I must,” he said, giving her one last kiss before releasing her. Narcissa finished brushing her hair as Lucius got changed into his pajamas, soon joining him in bed. They cuddled together, Lucius holding Narcissa close in his arms. It wasn't long before the two of them were asleep, both dreaming of a better future for themselves and their son.

 


	5. Chapter Five: Winter Wizengamot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the Wizengamot chapter you've all been waiting for. The last Horcrux will be taken care of next chapter. ^^

The past almost two months had been far more interesting for Merlin than even the past two centuries had been, save for the various wars and battles he'd lived through in that time. They'd managed to capture, try, and punish Peter Pettigrew, condemning him to life in Azkaban in a rune-based warded and Animagus-proof cell deep in the darkest pits of the dementor guarded prison; Sirius had quietly registered his own Animagus form with the ICW before anyone could complain.

Much to Merlin's pleasure, the goblins had been able to find and promptly cleanse all but one of the Horcruxes. Their rituals had been able to determine that the final one was located somewhere in Hogwarts, but the general consensus that it would likely be easier to wait until the longer summer break to search for it rather than try during the much shorter winter one.

The plan was to introduce the idea of overhauling the school's wards in the coming Wizengamot session, using the fact that they hadn't been updated since before the Second World War (a fact that had been gleefully given to him by the goblins) and the lingering paranoia from the most recent Blood war. After all, quite a few Heirs had been lost in the war between Voldemort and the Light, and those that were under the age of majority and still at school or younger were highly prized regardless of the alignments of the various Families. It would likely be child's play to use that to get near-unanimous approval regardless of what Dumbledore tried to say or do.

Merlin walked through the halls of the Ministry of Magic, Arcturus and Frank on either side of him. They made quite a few people stop what they were doing and watch, especially since it had been quite some time since Arcturus had been seen at the Ministry, and even longer since he'd been seen dressed in the elegant plum colored robes of the Wizengamot. Whispers followed them as people immediately started to gossip about Lord Black and his companions, one of whom was entirely unknown and the other who was far younger than the other two and hadn't been proven to their fellow members of the Wizengamot.

The three men rode the elevator down to level nine and then went down the stairs to level ten, heading into the opulently appointed Wizengamot chambers. They parted ways there, Frank heading to the Longbottom box where Augusta was waiting until the session started-- she would be moving to the observation area at that time –while Arcturus went to the Black box where Sirius waited in the Heir's seat. Merlin glanced around for the Potter box, and upon spotting it, walked across the main floor and then up the carpeted stairway until he reached the dark oak door to the box on the top tier around which the other Most Ancient and Noble Houses were arranged. Only the empty royal box was higher, but it would remained closed off until Amaranth ascended properly to her throne at twenty-one.

He placed his left hand against the Potter coat of arms on the door, making sure the ring made contact with it as he pushed out with his magic. The coat of arms glowed a deep silver before the door swung open, allowing Merlin entrance. There were three padded and comfortable chairs in the box: a Head/Regent's chair, an Heir's chair, and then a Lady/Consort's chair. The Head's was in the center; the Heir's was to its right, and the Lady/Consort's to the left and slightly behind the Head's. There was a sideboard at the back of the box that had a pitcher of water and goblets on a silver tray; a small table sat between the Heir's and Head's seats to put the goblets and small plates of food on if the session ran long, while a waist-high table sat in front of the chairs to be used as a desk or other writing/reading surface. A discreet door in a corner led to a small washroom with a toilet and sink within.

Merlin sat down in the Head/Regent's chair, letting his shrunken staff click firmly into the wand slot in the right hand arm. The moment it clicked into place, the golden coat of arms on the front of the box gained a merlin falcon _rising volant_ on either side of it in dark silver to mark his role as Regent over the House of Potter. He felt the magic of the Wizengamot rise up to test him as he settled in.

It felt curious, rather like a dog sniffing at a kind stranger. Merlin let his magic reach back, chuckling softly when the magic of the Wizengamot seemed to perk up and then roll over on its back, as if asking for a belly rub. A smile curved his lips at that. He doubted many places in Magical Britain would be closed to him given his status as a true and soul-marked servant of Magic, but it was always amusing when deeply magical places reacted like that to him. He activated the privacy wards on the box and then cleared his throat.

“A Potter elf to me, please,” he said quietly. There was a subtle pop and a house elf was standing next to his chair, her neatly pressed uniform of a black knee-length dress made of a soft tea towel marked with the Potter coat of arms over her right breast.

“Hello,” Merlin said kindly. “What is your name?”

“Callie, Regent Potter sir,” the elf replied.

“You can just call me sir if you like,” Merlin told her. “I don't really stand on formality all that much. Are you the elf assigned here, or were you just one that was able to come?”

“Callie takes care of the Potter Box and makes sure it's supplied when the 'Gamot is in session,” Callie replied. Her ears drooped. “We elves miss Lord James and Lady Lily. Is Miss Mara alright?”

Merlin winced, mentally chastising himself for forgetting about the Potter elves. “You all have my apologies,” he said, getting out of his chair and then kneeling in front of her. He held out his left hand. “Here. Touch my ring and you'll be able to find her. I believe Lady Malfoy is watching over her and her cousins at Potter Manor. I apologize for banning you elves from there while we settled in.”

Callie reached out and brushed her long fingers over the carnelian set atop the platinum ring. Her bright brown eyes closed briefly as she took in the secret of Amaranth's location. She nodded and then let her hand fall away. “Thank you for keeping her safe, sir,” she said, a bright smile forming. “The others will be happy to know she's alright. Callie will go tell them and then return to serve the Regent.”

“Only the Potter elves,” Merlin insisted. “The Black elves know the Secret as well. Heir Black has adopted her as his daughter in blood and magic.”

“Master Padfoot will be a good father,” Callie said, bouncing a little on her toes. “He loves Miss Mara.”

“That he does,” Merlin confirmed. “Thank you, Callie. Come back here within...” He checked his pocket-watch. “...ten minutes. Keep yourself unseen just in case.”

“Yes, sir,” Callie said, giving him one last smile before popping away. Merlin rose to his feet and then went over to the sideboard, pouring himself a glass of water. He took a long drink, refilling the goblet before setting it on the table next to his seat. He sighed before turning to look at the enchanted mirror that hung next to the door. His connection to the box's wards was telling him that someone was attempting to get in who wasn't allowed. The mirror showed a rather annoyed-looking Albus Dumbledore standing outside, wearing a particularly garish set of bright red robes with candy canes, jolly snowmen, and sparkling snowflakes all randomly drifting around on it.

Merlin winced. By the Lady, did the man have no fashion sense whatsoever? Merlin wasn't the most fashion-forward person to be sure, but at least he wasn't a walking advertisement for blindingly saccharine kitsch. He stepped forward and pressed a rune at the bottom of the mirror that activated its partner hanging on the wall next to the door outside.

“Can I help you, Chief Warlock?” he asked, keeping his expression composed and neutral.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said shortly, barely even attempting his usual facade of grandfatherly kindness. “You can tell me who you are and how you managed to trick the Wizengamot into accepting you as the Regent for House Potter.”

Merlin arched an eyebrow at him. “You can't trick the magics of the Wizengamot,” he replied. “It's impossible since it was founded on the same protocols that the Pendragon himself set down.”

With more than a little help from Merlin himself, naturally, but Arthur had been the one to tie the protocols to the boulder-sized ward stone sunk deep under the polished floor of the Wizengamot. It was entirely separate from the Ministry's own warding scheme, as the latter had come far later than the Wizengamot and the Wizard's Council that had preceded it. The initial meeting space for the Wizengamot had been a natural cavern far beneath the surface of the quickly growing port city above, and the Ministry of Magic had been constructed overhead by the goblins in the 1700s. That was why the Wizengamot chambers were so far down rather than up on a more prestigious floor, even though quite a few complaints had been lodged about it over the centuries.

Dumbledore let out a huff at that. “Be that as it may, you still haven't told me who you are.”

“I am Lord Ambrose, the Magic-appointed Regent of the House of Potter. If you want to debate it, please contact the goblins at Gringotts and they will provide you proof. I also was accepted by the magic of House Potter itself,” Merlin said calmly, lifting his left hand to show off the Regent's ring. “If there's anything else you would like to discuss, we can do so after the session is over, though I will ask that you make an appointment via owl, as I am rather busy most days. Have a good day.”

Merlin deactivated the viewing abilities of the mirror on Dumbledore's end, rolling his eyes at the other wizard's immediate response of attempting to get into the box again. He watched him continue to try until the chime signaling the five minute warning before the start of the session rang out, forcing Dumbledore to abandon his attempts and retreat to the box set aside for the Chief Warlock. Merlin wondered how long Dumbledore would be able to keep that post, especially given the fact that he'd been the one to lead the charge to seal the Potters' will.

He took his seat, deactivating the privacy wards just as a second chime sounded. Merlin settled back in his chair, curious to see how the rest of the Wizengamot would react to him. He highly doubted Dumbledore would be pleased with any of his choices, even if quite a few of them would likely benefit Avalon and the British Wizarding World greatly. Dumbledore struck his gavel against the hard surface of the table in front of him before setting it aside.

“Welcome, honored Lords and Ladies, to the Winter Session of 1981,” he said, folding his hands on the table in front of him. His voice was magically modified to be heard from any part of the chambers, be it in the observers' balconies near the main floor or the royal box itself. “Many things have changed since we last met. I would ask that we take a moment of silence to remember all those who have fallen in the war against the Dark Lord Voldemort, regardless of what side of the battlefield they were on.”

He bowed his head, lifting it about a minute later before clearing his throat. “Now then, to business. Lord Recorder Ogden, do we have any outstanding business from the last Session?” he asked, turning his attention to Tiberius Ogden, who served as the recorder and keeper of the minutes of each Session, a role that had belonged to the reigning Head of the Noble House of Ogden since the Wizengamot had been established.

Ogden quickly read over the minutes of the prior Session, paying particular attention to the section at the bottom of the record scroll that listed all of the items that hadn't been resolved at the end of the Autumn Session. He crossed off several items, as some of them had been taken care of since they'd last met in September, and then set his quill in its holder. He read out the remaining items before settling back in his chair. Thankfully, with the death of Voldemort, the most pressing matters were easily taken care of in short time.

Merlin watched all of this in thoughtful silence, ignoring the curious looks he was getting from his fellow Wizengamot members. It seemed that the body was roughly divided along alignment lines, though not all Houses voted solely with their similarly aligned compatriots. It was certainly going to shake things up along party lines when the Houses of Black, Malfoy, Longbottom, and Potter voted similarly on an issue. While Potter and Longbottom were traditionally Light aligned, Merlin was going to settle both the Potter and Ambrose votes firmly in the Gray alignment, giving him the most neutral base for Amaranth to learn from and eventually build upon.

Once the last pending item was cleared, Dumbledore opened the floor to new items. Arcturus immediately chimed in, pressing his wand down in its slot to signal that he wanted to speak. Dumbledore allowed it, though he had to quickly work to hide his disappointment that he had to hear anything a traditionally Dark House had to say.

Arcturus rose to his feet, a warm smile on his face. “Chief Warlock, honored members of the Wizengamot, I am pleased to introduce a new member of our ranks,” he said, the spells laid on the box projecting his voice easily around the chamber. “I have the honor of introducing Lord Merle Ambrose, the Head of the newly revived Most Ancient and Noble House of Ambrose and the Magic-appointed Regent of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Please help me in welcoming him to these hallowed halls.”

He led a round of applause for Merlin, who rose to his feet and bowed in thanks before sitting back down.

“Thank you for your warm welcome,” he said,. “I look forward to getting to know you all better in due time.”

“Congratulations, Lord Ambrose, on your ascension to our ranks. What alignment are you declaring your Houses to be allied with?” Dumbledore asked, more out of tradition than actually wanting to know. He was still seething over losing the ability to use the Potter votes. It would have been a boon to his agenda to have them to use, especially since by the time Amaranth grew old enough to have any say in the matter, her House would've been even more firmly entrenched in the Light and under his thumb.

“Gray,” Merlin replied, casually resting one ankle on the opposite knee. “House Potter and Ambrose are declared neutral.”

That sparked some chatter around the chamber, as House Potter had been aligned mainly with the Light for quite some time. A gray globe lit up over the seal on the Potter box, marking its alignment.

“Are you sure, Lord Ambrose?” Dumbledore asked, eyebrows rising high.

“Very, Chief Warlock,” Merlin replied firmly. “Thank you for the double checking, though.”

Dumbledore hummed at that before looking around the chamber. “Any other new business?”

Frank immediately swooped in, the chime from his box ringing out. Dumbledore turned his attention to him, looking far more relieved to be dealing with an obviously Light-aligned House than a Gray or, gods forbid, a Dark House.

“Yes, Lord Longbottom? What do you have to bring before us today?”

“I would like to propose that we work with the Gringotts' ward masters and curse breakers to do a full audit and update on the wards of Saint Mungo's, the Ministry, and Hogwarts,” Frank said. “This war has taxed all of our resources, and I suspect that if it had continued on for much longer, He Who Must Not Be Named would have turned his attention towards those three pillars of our community. I propose that we ensure that those who might try to attempt to follow in his footsteps cannot do so. We've lost too many of our heirs and spilled enough magical blood in this war. Let's make sure we don't lose any more in the future.”

Merlin had to hand it to Frank; the young lord knew exactly how to play to all aspects the crowd. None of what he'd said had anything to do with magical alignment, instead appealing to things all sides had in common. He wondered if Augusta had had any hand in the short speech, but kept that thought to himself, instead preferring to watch and listen as debate sparked up all around the chamber. After about forty minutes or so of intense discussion about where the funding for the audits would come from, Dumbledore called for a vote on the matter.

“All those in favor of this motion?” he asked. “Light your seals, please, to indicate your votes.”

A good eighty-five percent of the Wizengamot lit their seals, leaving the need for a vote against the motion entirely unnecessary. Dumbledore nodded, sitting back in his chair. “Very well, the motion has been carried. Lord Longbottom, as you are the instigator of this motion, I will leave it in your capable hands to get everything organized. I would ask that you create a committee to help you deal with this, as well as work with Gringotts to create an account that we can pool the funds for the work into to ensure prompt payment. I would also ask that the work on Hogwarts' wards waits until the summer so as to not interrupt the students' learning.”

“That was already in the plan, Chief Warlock,” Frank assured him. “I wouldn't want to disturb anyone's learning, especially not with OWLs and NEWTs approaching so quickly.” He smiled. “It's not been so long since I was worried about passing my NEWTs, so I've not forgotten how panic-inducing it can be.”

That earned him a round of laughter from the others, particularly from those closer to Frank's own age. Albus smiled benignly at him, all the while furiously thinking of what he could do to stall or otherwise delay the work on Hogwarts further than that coming summer. The curse that Voldemort put on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position would surely be found and dealt with, something that Albus had been using ever since the early 1960s to control just how much of the Dark Arts the children that passed through his domain actually learned. After all, if none of the teachers lasted for more than a year, how would anyone, Slytherins most of all, actually learn how beguiling the Dark Arts were?

Oh, sure, he'd allowed the students to be taught enough in the subject to pass their exams, but nothing more than that. If a non-Slytherin student had shown a particular aptitude in DADA, Charms, or Transfiguration, then Albus had subtly recruited them into his Order, currying favor with them especially if they were from a rich stock both magically and monetarily. Wars needed money and blood to run on, after all, and Voldemort was no easy foe to vanquish, especially not with that thrice-damned prophecy that had put quite the damper on Albus' plans for the man. The war was supposed to end in a spectacular battle pitting good against evil with him at the head, not because some babe still in diapers had the benefit of two parents willing to go to any length to protect her, including using quite illegal blood magics that, while Dark, weren't Infernal.

Albus still wasn't exactly sure how the Killing Curse had rebounded-- and it had to have been the Killing Curse, even if the only person who actually knew what had happened that night was still mostly pre-verbal –as Voldemort didn't tend to favor the messier curses, jinxes, or hexes that his subordinates did when it came to killing his opponents. He _was_ sure, however, that young Amaranth Potter now carried some of Voldemort's soul within her. Alas, the girl would have to die one day because of it, but preferably not before she'd killed Voldemort or, at the very least, had weakened him to the point where someone-- preferably Albus himself so he could further cement his place in history as the most powerful magic user in the world since Merlin –stepped in to land the killing blow, thereby ridding the world of the Dark Lord once and for all.

Albus cleared his throat and focused on the Potter box. “Lord Ambrose, an important question for you before we conclude this Session,” he said, his words causing silence to fall across the chamber. “You took Regency over House Potter. What happened with Heiress Potter?”

“Shouldn't we be asking you that, Chief Warlock?” Merlin asked. “You, after all, were the one who placed her with a supposedly safe family... somewhere.”

“I did, but I suspect you may have removed her from that situation,” Albus said.

Merlin hummed. “You're right, I did,” he said calmly, “but you already knew that. She is actually safe and sound in a secure place, and that is all I will tell you. She will learn exactly what she needs to survive in the Wizarding World and in the Mundane one as well. There are others who know the Secret of her permanent location.” His expression tightened. “She is _not_ going to be raised unaware of her heritage like what would have happened had she grown up where she was initially placed.”

“You swore that she would be raised to know our customs and history, Albus Dumbledore!” Lady Bianca Zabini called out, ignoring the speaking protocol in her surprise. “What else have you lied to us about?”

Merlin sat back as chaos erupted throughout the chamber, drawing on all of his skills to keep his expression neutral as he watched Dumbledore try to defend himself. After a while, Dumbledore pulled rank and ended the Session, leaving the Chief Warlock's box in a flurry of jolly robes and indignation. Merlin waited for another ten minutes before leaving the Potter box, joining Augusta, Arcturus, Lucius, Sirius, and Frank on the main floor.

“Well, that went better than expected,” he said. Arcturus snorted sharply.

“Dumbledore nearly wet himself with that last comment you made,” he retorted. “You don't pull your punches, do you lad? ”

“I'm not fond of people who fancy themselves puppet-masters,” Merlin replied tersely. “That never goes well for anyone involved, particularly not the puppets.”

“Agreed. Now, I suggest we get out of here and maybe get some lunch,” Sirius said. “I'm hungry.”

“I thought you were Sirius,” Frank shot back immediately, making the others roll their eyes-- well, except for Sirius, who just grinned at his friend. The six of them left the Wizengamot chambers, managing to escape most of the crowd who wanted to talk to them before they could reach the Floos to go home.

 


	6. Chapter Six: Paving the Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Horcrux time. The next chapter will likely have several time skips in it until Amaranth gets to Hogwarts. I have ideas for several vignettes I want to do that wouldn't work as full chapters on their own.

The overhauls and updates of the wards for Saint Mungo's and the Ministry were popular with the public as they happened over the next few months, with the _Daily Prophet_ praising the motion as forward-thinking and much needed after everything that had happened recently with Voldemort. The fact that the motion had been so thoroughly supported by all sides was heavily reported as well, leaving many with the hopeful impression that perhaps the world was starting to get better now that the Dark Lord was gone and wasn't causing strife and death any more.

By the time the Spring Session in April, the members of the Wizengamot were more open to actually listening to one another rather than bickering along alignment lines, though they weren't entirely erased. A good portion of that was down to how Merlin and his associates interacted with one another-- with respect and dignity, regardless of alignment –both in and outside of the chambers. This made bringing up the return of the fostering and sponsoring of half-bloods and Muggleborns far easier, even though it was Lucius who initially brought it up.

That issue would need further review, even with Lucius and Severus' testimony about how even the informal situation they'd had had worked out so well. Quite a few of the older members of the Wizengamot remembered how well fostering and sponsoring had worked before it had lost popularity due to Dumbledore's influence, so they were open to the idea of bringing them back. The younger members seemed to be alright with it as well, though a little more hesitant given their experiences with some of the more outspoken Muggleborn who didn't understand why things were done certain ways or why some holidays were celebrated differently than what they were used to in the Muggle world.

The ideas of Intro to Muggle World and Intro to Wizarding World classes for the first two years-- able to be dropped in Third Year to be replaced with other electives or continued to OWL level if the student wanted –had been proposed and then tentatively agreed to, with further discussion by the Hogwarts Board before they would be implemented. Finding appropriately accredited professors would be a priority, as would getting textbooks that would A) teach the students the information they would need to know to maneuver through both worlds easily and B) could be unbiased enough to allow them to make their own impressions about the worlds and cultures they were studying.

As summer approached, Dumbledore was starting to run out of excuses to delay the examination of Hogwarts' wards and grounds. The goblins took advantage of the fact that Dumbledore was required to be at the Summer Session of Wizengamot to force the issue. Any staff member who was staying at the castle during the summer was sent out for the length of the day, as the goblins didn't want any interference from them. The house elves, ghosts, and Peeves were such an integral part of the castle that their presences wouldn't be detrimental to the cleansing process.

Surprisingly, Peeves actually played nice with the goblins and the teams of cursebreakers and wardmasters, staying out of their way for the most part. The Bloody Baron had impressed on him how important it was for him to not get in the way of what was going on, especially since it was for the benefit of the school and all those inhabiting it. Peeves mainly stayed in the trophy room, bobbing around there as he waited for everything to be done.

The tracking orb with the soul shard in it led the team taking care of the last of the Horcruxes to a seemingly abandoned corridor on the seventh floor, with only a tapestry of a wizard ineptly trying to teach trolls how to ballet dance to mark the location. Merlin, who was accompanying the cursebreaking team, frowned as he studied the blank wall the orb was indicating. He rubbed a hand over his chin thoughtfully before speaking.

“May I have a Hogwarts elf to speak with, please?” he asked, reaching out with his magic to that of the castle. There was a warm pulse in reply from Hogwarts and an elf appeared dressed in a tea towel draped and pinned in the style of a toga, the Hogwarts coat of arms displayed over its right breast.

“Hello. How can Pipsy help you?” he squeaked. Merlin knelt down in front of him, a small smile on his face.

“Hello, Pipsy,” he said. He gestured at the wall. “We are looking for something very important, and our tracking magics tell us that it's beyond that wall, but there's no entrance. Do you know something we don't?”

Pipsy looked at the wall and then back at Merlin before speaking. “You are looking for the Come and Go room. You needs to go back and forth three times thinking of what you want to see.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, his smile deepening as he rose back to his full height. “You can go back to whatever you were doing. We appreciate the help, Pipsy.”

“You're welcome, sir!” Pipsy exclaimed before popping away back to his regular duties. During the summer, the house elves helped the caretaker to repair and deep clean the castle, and when they ran out of things to do there, they helped other house elves in the Ministry and Saint Mungo's, where more hands were always needed regardless of time of year.

“Well,” one of the cursebreakers said with a shrug, “we might as well try it. Can't hurt if it doesn't work, right?”

“Right. Step back, everyone,” Merlin said. He waited until the others were out of the way before passing back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall, thinking about what he needed to end Voldemort's life for all time. On the third pass, a plain oak door appeared in the wall.

“Hmph. Well, let's get this over with,” Copperblade, the lone goblin in the team, grumbled. Merlin nodded before leading the way into the room beyond. There was a moment of silence as they all took in the mountains of items within the room before one of the cursebreakers let out a low whistle.

“Something tells me that we're going to need more help,” she said, turning slowly on the spot. “Maybe the house elves?”

Merlin nodded. “I think you're right, Sylvia. A Hogwarts elf to me, please.” He frowned when nothing happened. “Hm. Maybe they can't get in here. Stay here for a moment.”

He stepped outside of the Room and then called for an elf again. This time it worked, and once Merlin explained what they needed and why, nineteen more elves popped in around him and trooped into the Room of Hidden Things. Several hours later, the cursebreaking team had located several Dark artifacts that bordered on Infernal and had contained them in specialized crates to deal with later. Copperblade was the one who had the tracking orb, and when it indicated the presence of a Horcrux nearby, called out.

“Over here!” they called out, focusing on a tiara set atop a rather ugly bust of a long-dead wizard. “I found it!”

The others rushed over, leaving the house elves to continue to organize the other objects into various expanded chests. The more valuable objects and gems would be sold and then the gold put into the Hogwarts' vaults to be used for its annual running budget. The books and clothes would be sorted through as well, and any good ones would go either to the library or to the clothing closet Professor Sprout had set aside for those who had either forgotten items at home or who couldn't afford more quality items.

Sylvia produced a heavily warded box from her pack, holding it open while Copperblade levitated the Horcrux up and then into the box with a wave of their hand. The dark and alluring aura the tiara exuded dissipated once the lid of the box was closed.

“So,” Sylvia said as she looked down at the box in her hands, “think this'll work to finish the prophecy off once and for all? It does say that the Dark Wanker needs to die by Amaranth's hand.”

“I am her Hand by magic and right on this earth until such a time as she grows old enough to relieve me of that responsibility,” Merlin said firmly. “That should be more than enough to satisfy that damned prophecy.”

“Let's get this back to the bank and get it taken care of, then,” Copperblade replied. “We can use our contacts in the Department of Mysteries to double-check that the prophecy has been fulfilled.”

Merlin hummed affirmatively in reply, his thoughts wandering as they trooped out of the Room, leaving the elves to continue their work. It had been a surprise to learn that both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were associated with the Department of Mysteries, though Narcissa had taken time off as a healer for obscure curses and magical diseases due to wanting to raise Draco properly. Lucius was a researcher as well, though his specialty were enchanted magical devices. It was part of the reason why he wasn't too fond of Arthur Weasley. The man's fascination with enchanting Muggle devices made Lucius' own work harder as, depending on the device, it was hard to tell between the two, especially if both worlds used said device, be that currently or in the past.

The other part was that the man seemed utterly unconcerned with teaching his children proper Wizarding manners or traditions. That, and one of the Weasley ancestors had broken a marriage contract with a Malfoy bride, instead opting to run off with the third son of a Muggle merchant and move to one of the newly established territories in the Caribbean without so much as an apology or explanation. That was what had started the Malfoy-Weasley feud, and there was little doubt that it would end any time soon unless Arthur made the surprisingly small amount of reparations for his ancestor's act and actually apologized in the proper fashion.

Merlin and Copperblade returned to Gringotts while the rest of the team went to help with the cleansing and renewal of the wards. The curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had been taken care of by that time. It had been anchored to multiple artifacts in the classroom, making it initially difficult to figure out how to dispel it until one of the cursebreakers had the idea to cast a broad-range curse-detecting spell on the room from the doorway. Once they'd found all the cursed objects and tested the room again, it came up clean, though the only way they would truly know if it was entirely gone would be if the next DADA professor lasted more than a year.

The final cleansing of the Hogwarts wards took all of the wardmasters and cursebreakers' powers and knowledge combined, though the castle itself did seem to be aiding them the best it could. Once all was said and done, the wards were as strong as they had ever been. There was a separate team who was helping to cleanse the forest of any creature that shouldn't be there. Hagrid had been distraught to learn that most of the Acromantula colony would be eradicated using magical means, as the full colony wouldn't be conducive to a transfer to a protected island where their silk and venom would be able to harvested humanely by complex spells and house elves, but the giant spiders wouldn't be able to harm any people with their presence. Cows and other large prey would be transported to the island to satisfy the spiders' appetites.

While the cleansing of the wards and grounds were finishing up, Merlin and Copperblade were ready to trap the last of the Horcruxes in the soul orb and then cast it through the Veil. Once the ritual to ensnare the Horcrux was finished and the tiara melted by the Fiendfyre furnace just in case, Merlin made his way to the Ministry with Lucius at his side, though both were cloaked and hooded, with Merlin's cloak imbued with the same voice and face masking spells as a proper Unspeakable's was. No one stopped them on their way to the Department of Mysteries, as no one wanted to get in the way of one Unspeakable, let alone two.

It was laughably easy to get to the Veil Chamber with their burden. The orb was encased in a warded box just in case, and would remain within even while being sent through the Veil. Once they were in front of the Veil, Merlin took the box from Lucius and then tossed it into the archway, making sure to use his hands rather than levitating it with his wand just in case the prophecy was being literal rather than metaphorical. He wasn't going to leave anything to chance when it came to Amaranth's safety and future.

The Veil fluttered as if in a high wind once the box disappeared from view, and much to Lucius and Merlin's surprise, a wispy black wraith appeared out of nowhere with a scream and all but dove through the Veil, as if in a vain attempt to retrieve the box. The two men exchanged startled looks before Lucius cautiously pushed back his left sleeve. His Dark Mark was gone entirely, wiped away when the last of Voldemort's anchors were destroyed.

They immediately left to go check the Hall of Prophecies, Lucius speaking with the masked Keeper of the Hall to see if they could listen to a copy of the prophecy concerning Amaranth and the Dark Lord. The copy that the Keeper came back with was dull and dark, signifying that the prophecy in question had been fulfilled. Merlin took the copy, along with the identifying tag that went with it. He knew just who to show it to if needed. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to claim that the Dark Lord was still a threat with that in hand.

Merlin did have to wonder if there were any other prophecies concerning Amaranth, be that in general or as the future ruler of Magical Britain and its territories. That would be something they could investigate later, perhaps when Amaranth was old enough to actually understand her situation and be able and willing to find out more. For now, they would raise her as if that was the only prophecy about her that mattered, letting her decide her own fate. It seemed appropriate given how much of her short life had been governed by Fate already.

Lucius and Merlin left the Ministry with much lightened hearts, Apparating away to Malfoy Manor and Potter Manor respectively. Lucius found Narcissa in her sitting room, Draco napping on a cot nearby as Narcissa was reading a book on ancient curses she had recently gotten via owl order. Lucius knelt down in front of her and gently plucked the book from her hands before taking them in his own.

“It's done,” he reported, pressing soft kisses against her palms. “We retrieved the last object from Hogwarts and put it through the Veil.” He leaned back and pushed his sleeve back to show her the unmarked skin there. “The Mark is gone as well. It's as if it was never there. I can't feel the taint on my magic any more, though I suspect it'll be some time before it was as it used to be.”

Narcissa leaned forward and cupped his face on either side with her hands before kissing him deeply. When she moved back, she was pleased to see that he had a faintly dazed look on his face. “We are free,” she said simply. “That calls for a celebration, don't you think?”

Lucius grinned. “What kind of celebration did you have in mind?”

Narcissa merely smiled as she got up. “Call a house elf to watch over Draco and I'll show you.”

Lucius laughed as he rose to his feet. He did as told, summoning a nursery elf to watch over Draco before Narcissa led him away to the bedroom. They had a private celebration of their own that day, joining the rest of what Sirius had once jokingly called Amaranth's court advisers for dinner later at Longbottom Hall. They celebrated the final fall of Voldemort with a toast to all the hard work that had been done and the allies that had helped them, though as Merlin reminded them, the hardest work was still to come.

“Until Amaranth takes her rightful place on the throne, we will have our work cut out for us, and even after that, it won't be easy,” he said as they all relaxed in the sitting room after dinner, the children all curled up in a playpen in one corner and fast asleep. “ _We_ may know that she is the rightful heir of Pendragon, but there will be those who will oppose her right to the throne and try to either claim her or it for themselves.”

“Then we'll have to do our best to protect her against them,” Remus replied. “Her happiness-- and therefore, all of ours –depends on it.”

“As does the future of Magical Britain and Avalon,” Merlin added. “Let us hope that we guide her down the right path.”

The others nodded. They'd been focused on the now for so long that they needed to look at what was to come. They settled in and started planning, talking long into the night about what the future might look like. What came of that night would eventually be part of what was called the Avalon Accords, a set of laws and codes that would serve to guide the British Wizarding world for centuries to come.

 


	7. Chapter Seven: A Very Merry Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. March was a hectic month for me, so writing wasn't a huge priority. However, this chapter's just about twice what I usually post, so I hope it makes up for it! The idea about witches and their hair is lovingly adopted from [Ellory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellory/pseuds/Ellory) and her wonderful world building.

Merlin observed Amaranth at breakfast on the morning of her eleventh birthday, a fond smile curving his lips as he watched her chat happily with Sirius and Remus about their trip to Gringotts and then Diagon Alley later that day to finish picking up her school supplies now that her Hogwarts letter and supply list had arrived. She was excited to get her first wand and Heiress rings, though what the latter would look like given the various titles she would gain upon her majority, he had no idea. The various rings would be able to combine magically together, so if she just showed the Potter crest, her secret should continue to be safe until the time came to unveil it.

She was also excited to visit the Book of Souls at the Ministry, as was tradition when a young witch or wizard, regardless of background, turned eleven or first entered the Wizarding World to start at Hogwarts, whichever came first. Previously, it had just been something that pure- and half-bloods did, but as fostering and sponsoring had regained traction over the past decade, it had come to encompass children from all backgrounds, as had inheritance tests for Muggleborns at Gringotts to see if they had come from Squib lines that could then be reinstated and the funds that had merely been collecting paltry bits of interest in their vaults be rejuvenated, along with the economy. That had been one of the things the Avalon Alliance, as it had been come to be called privately amongst the group, was most proud of, as it often provided Muggleborns with a more even footing to their Wizard-born peers.

Draco had already been to the Book since he was a month older than Amaranth, and had returned from the experience quietly contemplative. Amaranth had been bursting to ask one of her favorite cousins questions about what had happened, but Narcissa had taken her aside to explain that the experience of each witch or wizard with the Book was an intensely private one, and that Draco would tell her when he felt ready. Amaranth hadn't been pleased with the answer but understood nonetheless, as it was part of the Old Ways and Magics that made up the foundation of the Wizarding World and its society. The Book had been there long before Merlin himself had been born, and would likely be there long after any of them were long dead and buried in their family crypts.

Helping to raise Amaranth over the past nine and a half years had often an adventure. The young witch flourished under so much positive and loving attention, though the adults were careful not to spoil her _too_ much. As she grew, she could often be found in the company of her cousins and a few others her age, though for major holidays and festivals like Yule, Samhain, and Beltane, she would make appearances at the various parties and balls held by other noble families. They would also take her to Diagon and Hogsmeade on occasion, though she was accompanied by an adult at all times just in case.

Even with Voldemort gone, there were those who would love nothing more than to either kidnap or kill his defeater. Merlin and the others had put a firm stop to that 'Girl Who Lived' nonsense that the press wanted to push, as well as the various books about her so-called adventures that were pure drivel. Sirius had gone after the publisher and author quite soundly the moment the books hit shelves and he was made aware of them, coming down on them like several tons of angry Hungarian Horntail.

Much to everyone's surprise, the author was revealed as Gilderoy Lockhart using a pseudonym. The pompous idiot tried to defend his work by saying the books were marked as fiction and if people believed they were true, then that was their own fault. The books _were_ marked as fiction, though it was in tiny print in a corner under the books' summaries and half-hidden by price stickers. Sirius tore Lockhart and the publishers a new one, ending up with the latter paying him for reparations and the former losing a good deal of his loyal fan base and being derided as a fame-hungry hack. He eventually faded away into obscurity, only being remembered as a mediocre writer and a rather shoddy wizard.

That wasn't the last time that someone tried to use Amaranth's fame for their own ends, though most of the time they were more subtle in their attempts. Sirius eventually had to get a magical cease-and-desist order against all who wanted to use Amaranth's name or likeness, as well as attributing anything from quotes to endorsements to her without proper permission beforehand. Several people learned the hard way that the magic tied to the order was very punitive and creative, as befit Sirius' Marauder legacy.

“Mer, c'mon, we're going to go to Diagon!” Amaranth said happily, rousing Merlin out of his contemplation. He returned the smile she was giving him, the sight of her happy face bringing joy to his heart as always. She'd taken after Lily in looks for the most part, though there were some features that were purely Black or Potter, such as her high cheekbones or her lithe yet tall frame. She was tall for a newly turned eleven year old witch, taking after James' height with aplomb, and was fond of keeping her waist-length hair up in tiny ornately intertwined braids that her personal house elf, Dahlia, helped her with every morning. That morning's pins had tiny blossoms of her namesake blooming on them, picked out in the multitude of bright colors that the real blooms came in.

The braids were enchanted to keep her head and neck from getting sore, and Dahlia often decorated them with little hair pins that sparkled in the light. Most witches who followed the Old Ways kept their hair up when out in public, only letting it down when in private around their children and/or spouses. Merlin had always been intrigued by it but didn't question it, not wanting to bring the cold wrath of many of the witches he knew upon him, though he was sure Amaranth would forgive him.

To her, he'd always be her Mer, while most of the rest of the adults of the Avalon Alliance were either called aunt or uncle by her, regardless of actual blood relation to her. Sirius was Padfoot or Dad depending on Amaranth's mood, though if they were in a particularly formal situation, it was Father or Lord Black as needed.

“You'll be joining us, right?” Remus asked.

“Of course,” Merlin replied. “I wouldn't miss this for the world. The Longbottoms will be joining us, right?”

“They went yesterday,” Sirius said with a shake of his head. “Tradition and all. They'll be coming over for the usual joint birthday dinner, of course, but they visited the Book and Gringotts yesterday, as well as got Neville's supplies and wand then.”

“It'll be good to see him again,” Amaranth said, a small smile curving her lips. The gentle crush that she had on Neville was adorable, and Neville certainly didn't seem to mind, especially since they'd grown up as such close friends. Neville and his parents had been on a vacation to Brazil for the past month, exploring various Wizarding enclaves and reserves that had rare Herbology and Potions ingredients growing in them. Severus had asked them to bring back samples if they could since he wasn't able to come with them. As Alice was a Herbology Mistress, she was more than happy to do as requested, and had collected quite a bit of ingredients that weren't available in Great Britain that Severus could plant in his own greenhouses and put in his specially warded ingredient storage cupboards.

Severus had started his own apothecary in Diagon when Amaranth was three, settling in happily to brew most days while the shop itself was tended by shopkeepers that Severus had interviewed thoroughly to make sure that they were as passionate about potions as he was. He and Remus had quietly bonded two years after that. Neither had gone to the Book of Souls when they were old enough, as Severus' parents had refused to take him when he was eleven and Remus... Well, werewolves weren't viewed as being worthy of the Book or soulmates by the general Wizarding world, so though his parents were aware of it, neither had wanted to disappoint him by getting there and having the Book's Keeper tell him he couldn't touch it.

The two had gone to the Book after discovering that neither had been before one night. Both were surprised to see the other's name glowing on the pages of the Book after they'd touched it, especially after the enmity between them at school. Severus had the idea to go to Gringotts to get both of them checked for any personality or behavioral modifying spell or potions on them just in case. The tests had turned out rather horrifying, as there was a large amount of evidence of long-term potions and spell abuse heaped upon both of them. The magical signature was degraded after so long, but the goblins recorded what they could of it and then purged the two wizards of everything that was wrong with them. They weren't able to stop Remus from being a werewolf, but had provided Severus a way to refine the Wolfsbane Potion that had been developed a few years prior so Remus experienced less pain in his transformations.

Amaranth had been part of their bonding ceremony, acting as the flower girl with great glee. She had loved seeing the growth of their love, both before the bonding and after. She had asked Merlin why he wasn't bonded to someone after the ceremony or if he had a soulmate. Merlin had merely replied that not everyone had soulmates or got bonded with them, though he hadn't been able to entirely hide the flash of long-borne pain that came with the answer. Amaranth hadn't been entirely pleased with that answer, but had been distracted a short time later by the announcement of cake and food, much like any five year old would be.

Sirius had been watching the interaction, and when Amaranth had wandered off to see if she could get cake with the help of Narcissa or one of the other adults, he stepped forward.

“Everything alright?”

Merlin merely smiled a little. “They will be,” he replied. “Her questions were... well, not quite unexpected, but still.”

Sirius hummed softly. “Do-- or did --you have a soulmate?”

“I do, but we have not seen one another in person in at least...” Merlin made a thoughtful noise. “...four months now? The Lady has blessed him with the same long lifespan as I have had, but his work for Her has him traveling all over the world.”

Sirius blinked at that. “Have we met him?”

Merlin smiled. “You have, I believe, in your work as an Auror. Alexander Hart, the Lord Gaheris. The legends have recorded him as Galahad. He works with the magical side of MI-5, the Muggle intelligence agency, and has ever since the Crown needed an intelligence service. We keep in touch via enchanted mirrors and linked communication journals.”

He let his magic flow over his left hand, revealing for a brief moment the simple gold bonding ring on the ring finger there that was engraved with runes for happiness, fidelity, and good health before hiding it again. “It's safer that no one knows we're bonded, mainly for his sake and safety.”

Sirius nodded. “I've met him before. He's nice, though a little...” He laughed. “I thought he was a bit of a pompous prick at first, and then I saw him in action. He's deadly with a wand.”

Merlin laughed as well. “Alexander does give off that impression at first, I'm afraid, though it's often a mask more than anything else.”

“Naturally,” Sirius said. “Still, I'm happy for you.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress robes, looking out over the party. The Book of Souls hadn't opened for him when he was eleven, leaving him free to pursue whomever he liked as a romantic partner. That had been the same thing that had happened with Andromeda, though she had created more scandal with her marriage to a Muggleborn and subsequent birthing of a half-blood daughter than Sirius had with not actually settling down with anyone yet. Amaranth had taken up quite a bit of his time, and he never lacked for non-romantic company, so he was content.

Merlin shook himself out of his thoughts once more as they made their way to the Floo room of Potter Manor, the house elves quickly and efficiently clearing up the remnants of breakfast the moment they were out of the informal dining room. The five of them Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, Amaranth going with Sirius while the other three made solo trips with a space of about thirty seconds between them. The crowds were healthy that year, and it took longer than expected to get to Gringotts as quite a few people stopped to say hello and wish Amaranth a happy birthday.

When they finally did reach the bank, Goldthorn was waiting for them in their office, the boxes holding the various Heir rings she was eligible for already sitting on their desk. The sight of four boxes on the desk was surprising but no one commented. Once they were all seated in front of Goldthorn's desk, the goblin cleared their throat.

“Welcome, young Amaranth,” they said, giving her a respectful nod.

Amaranth smiled and returned it. “Honored Senior Account Manager,” she replied, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “May the Lady bless you on this fine day.”

“And you,” Goldthorn said, looking rather pleased about the respect they were being shown, particularly by such a young witch. “Are you ready to take up your rings?”

“Yes, I am,” Amaranth confirmed. “Which ones do we have here?”

“Black, Potter, Slytherin, and Pendragon, in order of prominence,” Goldthorn said, tapping each one with a long finger as they named them off. Amaranth blinked in surprise.

“Slytherin?” she asked.

Goldthorn nodded. “Yes. It doesn't have any vaults associated with it, but the title is an old one nonetheless. You gained it from your mother's defeat of Slytherin's heir. Riddle never claimed the title fully, though I'm not entirely sure if he knew he could, to be honest. Regardless, it's yours by right of conquest. You will need to put the rings on in order of prominence. They will blend together and then you can cycle between them as needed.”

Amaranth looked over at her three companions to double-check one last time before she pulled the Black ring box to her. Ten minutes later, she was opening the Pendragon ring box. The first three had gone on with no fuss and only small flashes of light as they accepted her and resized and then blended seamlessly with one another on her right hand. She'd felt rushes of warmth run through her with each one as they accepted her.

“When you're ready, Heiress Potter,” Goldthorn urged gently. Amaranth smiled at them before opening the box and taking out the ring. It was a mithril band with a shimmering green-blue fire opal that had the Pendragon crest of two dragons rampant reversed on it. She carefully plucked it out of the box, running her thumb over the crest with a soft sigh before steeling herself and putting it on.

A golden nimbus of magic surrounded her the moment the ring touched her skin, the haze nearly obscuring her from view before it sank into her skin. She shivered and then switched the ring that was showing to the Potter Heir's ring.

“You okay, Mara?” Sirius asked in concern.

“Fine. Just... overwhelmed,” Amaranth said, taking several deep breaths to steady herself. She looked at Merlin with a startled expression. “I can _feel_ you. Your magic.” She placed a hand over her heart. “Here.”

“That's the liege bond,” Merlin replied easily. “I pledged my service and loyalty to the Eternal and Royal House of Pendragon a long time ago. Our Houses are eternally entwined.”

“Oh. That's... amazing,” Amaranth breathed. She hopped off the chair and went to hug him tightly. Merlin hugged her back with a fond smile, pleased that she wasn't put off by it. He could feel her magic as well, the sensation a gentle pull that reminded him of her hand in his when they were walking together. She didn't do that as often these days, but that was all a part of growing up.

Once the hug was over, Amaranth returned to her seat, looking to Goldthorn for further instructions. They had tidied away the ring boxes while she and Merlin were talking, sending them back to where they belonged.

“When you turn seventeen, the Potter and Slytherin titles and rings will automatically change from Heir to Lady,” they said, folding their hands on their desk. “You can ascend the throne at twenty-one, so you still have a decade to prepare and feather your nest and future court, so to speak. The next seven years will likely be the most vital since you will be able to make connections at Hogwarts that will last for years.”

Amaranth nodded, taking it all in. She was well aware of the need to make good connections with people from all backgrounds, regardless of what some of the more staunchly traditionalist and isolationist Purebloods might think. She hadn't been raised to believe in all the blood purity nonsense-- not that any of the adults in her life would let her –and rather disliked people who _did_ believe in it wholeheartedly, often quietly avoiding them and their children as often as she could.

“Now, Lord Ambrose here will remain as regent for your titles until that time,” Goldthorn continued on. “The Pendragon title will not become active until you take the throne, so you won't have to worry about that coming to light until the proper time. Now that you're eleven, you have access to your trust vault.”

They produced a small golden key from a desk drawer and handed it over to her, along with a small leather wallet that had the Potter coat of arms on it. “This is the key to the vault,” they said. “The wallet will keep it safe for you. If you add a drop of blood on the coat of arms, it will bind the wallet and the key to your magic and not allow anyone else to attempt to use either. The wallet can expand to hold the key and a few other things, like a personal seal or something similar. You can use your key to pay for things in stores-- the money will be magically moved to the shopkeepers' vaults instantly after you press it against a special pad of receipt paper they have –or you can withdraw money from your vault yourself, whichever you prefer. If someone tries to take the wallet from you, it will immediately return to your vault within thirty seconds and their magical signature will be recorded here in the bank so we know who the potential thief was. _Never_ lend your key or wallet to anyone.”

“I won't,” Amaranth promised sincerely. “Thank you, Goldthorn. Is there anything else I need to know?”

Goldthorn shook their head. “No. I'm sure your father and regent will be able to inform you about anything else.” They smiled. “Many blessings on your day of birth, young Amaranth, and have a wonderful day.”

“Thank you, Goldthorn, and I hope you have a good day as well,” Amaranth said, putting the key into the wallet and then carefully storing it in the dimensional storage bracelet she wore around her right wrist. It had been a present from Narcissa and Andromeda for her birthday; a stag and doe _rampant_ had been engraved on it, along with the Potter Family motto. The four magic users left Goldthorn's office after saying their goodbyes, deciding to get Amaranth's supplies and wand while they were still on the Alley rather than going to the Ministry and then returning to the shops afterwards.

Once they finished with the bank, they headed out into the Alley, going to the trunk store first before everything else. Amaranth got a satchel with a limited Undetectable Expansion Charm and a Featherlight Charm in dark leather with her initials on the brass clasp. She also got a four compartment trunk in pale oak with verbal password and magical signature-based locks on it, as well as some simple anti-theft charms, a Featherlight Charm, and runes that would allow it to shrink to the size of a matchbox for ease of transport. One compartment was for clothes and shoes, the second for books, the third for ink, parchment, and quills, and the fourth for other miscellaneous items that didn't fit in the first three categories. The compartments had auto-sorting charms on them that would keep everything neat and tidy, particularly in the compartment with the ink bottles.

After the trunk was obtained, the small party went to collect her books and supplies, stopping at Severus' apothecary to get her ingredients and other Potions tools, such as her scales and cauldron, rather than anywhere else, knowing that he would carry the best Potions ingredients, tools, and pre-made kits. He had a goodly amount of the pre-made ingredients kits for each year-level at Hogwarts, with twice as much the amount of the more common ingredients in the kits than those that Slug and Jiggers, his most direct competitor, put in theirs. He knew that the first and second years likely wouldn't be able to get through the whole year without needing to refill on the basics from his own experience, and didn't want them to overtax the school's supplies or their parents' coffers.

Severus himself rang them up, not wanting to miss out on Amaranth's day even if he had to be working for most of it. They would have their usual quiet family birthday party in the evening, with the Longbottoms joining them then. He wished her a happy birthday as he finished the transaction, earning a bright smile from her. Remus spoke quietly to him as Sirius shrank the purchases down and put them in a bag with everything else, parting ways with his husband only when Sirius announced that it was time for Amaranth to get her wand.

They didn't go to Ollivander's, but rather a custom wand shop on Historic Alley-- an offshoot of Diagon that had quite a few charming cafes and shops that were mostly owned by Halfbloods and Muggleborn –called Moorehaven's. It was run by a middle-aged and slightly heavy-set wizard with short salt and pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He looked rather stern and distant until he began to talk, and then his natural warmth and excitement for his craft shone through, transforming him into someone Amaranth was quite happy to talk with. She'd always been fascinated with wands and their lore, though she knew she'd never be able to become a wandsmith given her other duties when she grew old enough. She left the shop with an 12 and 3/4” pearwood and horned serpent horn wand, the pale red wood glimmering in the sunlight before Amaranth put it away in her dimensional store.

“So,” she said, looking up at Sirius, “can we go now?”

“Go?” Sirius asked playfully. “Go where?”

Amaranth just rolled her eyes and then looked at Merlin. “Maybe you and Uncle Remus can take me, Mer, since Dad doesn't seem to want to go with me.”

Merlin laughed at the sudden hangdog look on Sirius' face. “Something tells me that he would sulk for _weeks_ if he wasn't able to come with you on this part of your journey, dearest,” he said, shooting Sirius an amused look “I don't think I'd want to deal with that while you're off at Hogwarts learning everything you can.”

Amaranth glanced at Sirius before sighing dramatically. “Oh, alright, I _guess_ he can come along,” she said, holding a straight face for all of ten seconds before laughing brightly and then hugging Sirius, who returned the hug with an equal measure of love.

“Alright, I vote we get lunch at the Leaky and then Floo from there,” Sirius said once the hug was over. “My stomach is grumbling worse than Remus before his morning tea.”

“I don't grumble – _much_ ,” Remus protested. Sirius laid a hand on his shoulder, a suitably solemn expression on his face.

“Moony, old friend, it's time to face the facts. You are a bear when you haven't had your tea in the morning. The Lady only knows how Severus manages.”

“He has his ways,” Remus said with a smirk. Sirius' nose wrinkled at that as he realized what Remus was implying.

“Aw, c'mon, Moony, I didn't need to think about _that_ ,” he whined. “Let's just go get lunch and not talk about your morning... habits.”

Remus laughed as they headed to the Leaky Cauldron, continuing to carefully tease Sirius until the Animagus shot him with a Stinging Charm to get him to change subjects. The lunch was delicious as usual, with Tom himself serving them their food. Once they were done, they paid for the use of the Floo and headed to the Ministry. The journey to the Book took them down to the ninth level near the Department of Mysteries, though not exactly in it.

It was located behind a heavy oak door that was carved with runes and various magical plants. The chamber beyond was spacious though sparsely decorated. There was a waist-high marble plinth in the center of the chamber with a thick leather-bound tome placed on it. A heavy bronze clasp kept the gold-edged pages shut, but that was the only real decoration on the whole Book.

Standing next to the plinth was a figure dressed all in midnight blue. It was hard to tell what gender they were, as their face was hidden in the shadows of their hooded cloak and the cut of their robes was tailored just so to hide any obvious signs, much like an Unspeakable's robes.

“Welcome, Amaranth Potter, to the Book of Souls,” the Keeper said, their voice carefully modulated with spells to be neither male nor female, but an oddly melodious combination of both. “A very happy birthday to you. Please place your hand on the center of the Book and state your name.”

Amaranth licked her lips, one of her nervous tells, before approaching the Book. A step-stool magically appeared out of thin air to help her reach the Book. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the Book with her fingers curled against her palm.

“Go on,” Sirius urged gently. “It's alright, Mara.”

Amaranth looked back over her shoulder before nodding and turning back to the Book. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then placed her hand flat on the Book's cover. “Amaranth Euphemia Potter,” she announced slowly but clearly.

There was an expectant hush in the room before a surprisingly loud click sounded from the lock as it opened. Amaranth lifted her hand just as the Book opened of its own accord, the pages fluttering as if in a high wind. It stopped somewhere near the middle, the pages emitting a gentle golden glow. Amaranth leaned forward, a soft gasp escaping her as she read what was on the page.

 

_Let it be known that Amaranth Euphemia Potter and Neville Alexander Longbottom are fated soulmates, joined by Magic Herself for all time and lives. Woe be unto those who try to part them, for the utmost penalties will be exacted. Thus speaks the Lady, Weaver of Fates and Mother of Magic._

 

The page that the proclamation was written on floated free of the book, rolling itself into a neat scroll; a golden silk ribbon appeared out of nowhere and tied itself around the center. Amaranth plucked it out of the air in a daze, the Book closing with a quiet thud and snick of the lock. She turned to look at her family, blinking a few times before overwhelmed tears of joy started streaming down her face. She ran to Sirius, wrapping her arms around him but never letting go of the scroll.

Sirius hugged her tightly, smoothing a gentle hand over her head as she cried into his robes. Eventually, her tears petered out, leaving her sniffling occasionally. Merlin quietly conjured up a fresh handkerchief and handed it to Amaranth, earning a mumbled thanks from her as she dried her tears and blew her nose.

“Good news?” Remus prompted quietly. Amaranth nodded, sniffling a few more times before putting the handkerchief away in a pocket of her robes.

“Y-yeah,” she said as she carefully put the scroll away in an inner pocket of her robes. “It's... It's Nev. I...” She let out a watery laugh. “I always felt close to him, but I thought it was just because we've grown up together, you know? I didn't think we'd be _soulmates_.”

Merlin smiled. “It's an amazing feeling,” he said. “I remember when I touched the Book myself and saw the name of my soulmate staring back at me.”

“Same here,” Remus added. “It's overwhelming, isn't it?”

Amaranth's smile was watery. “Yeah, but it'll be worth it in the end, right?”

“Right, though just because you're soulmates doesn't mean you won't have arguments,” Remus said with a crooked smile as he thought of the many fights he'd had with Severus over the years, both before and after their bonding, “but having that assurance that Magic herself made you for one another does help things. It's a reminder that even when times get tough, there's always a spark of light that binds you to another person in the world.”

Sirius watched the three of them talk, his emotions conflicting within him. On the one hand, he was excited and more than a little relieved that Amaranth had a soulmate, but on the other hand, the fact that he didn't have a soulmate of his own made his heart ache deeply at times. He looked at the Book while the others were distracted, wondering why it hadn't opened for him at eleven. Sirius didn't know if it would've made things easier or harder, especially considering how crazy his parents had been.

He looked down at Amaranth's tear-streaked but happy face and shoved the old hurts down deep where they usually lived. He knew he would have to be strong for his daughter and help her weather the ups and downs of life, just as he had been for the past ten years. It was what she deserved and what he would continue to do until either she stopped needing him-- which he hoped never happened –or when he passed from this life and moved on to the next.

Sirius helped to escort Amaranth out of the room, his hand resting against her back. Today was a day for celebrations, not dwelling on old hurts. He could do that later in the privacy of his own study once Amaranth was asleep for the night, but for the time being, he was going to do what he did best: make merry and shower love on his daughter.


	8. Chapter Eight: Path to the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the story-- for now. I am playing around with the idea of a sequel to this, but have not yet decided on if/when that'll happen. I'd love your feedback, though! Thanks for coming along on this journey with me as I played with old and new ideas alike.
> 
> Oh, and to address an issue someone mentioned in a review, no, Amaranth and Neville aren't related by blood, only by marriage. While a Longbottom and a Black (Harfang and Callidora respectively) did marry in canon, for the sake of the story, Harfang Longbottom is one of Neville's great-great-uncles and therefore not a direct ancestor.

Amaranth wandered through the corridor of the Hogwarts Express, her new familiar, a juvenile magical gemstone snake by the name of Prism, gently looped around around her neck like a living necklace and Neville following just behind her. Prism had scales that glittered like small gems in an array of various hues, thus his name. He was a vain little thing and liked to be praised and pampered. Amaranth had found him in a shop on Diagon a few days prior, having been drawn to his tank by her Parselmagic.

Merlin and Sirius had ensured that she wasn't ashamed of her Parseltongue and Parselmagic abilities, bringing in teachers from around the world to instruct her in their uses as well as publishing articles in the _Daily Prophet_ about various famous Parselmouths from around the world. By the time Amaranth was nine, the British Magical World had mostly relaxed its stance on the 'evilness' of the ability, especially when Gringotts revealed the fact that some of their best healers and warders had it and were highly prized amongst the ranks of their human and near-human employees. After all, if the goblins prized the ability, then surely it couldn't be _too_ bad even if the Dark Lord and Salazar Slytherin had been.

When they reached the middle of the train, Amaranth was about to turn to talk with Neville when she heard the soft sounds of someone crying in a nearby compartment, the door of which had been hastily but not entirely closed. She shot her soulmate a worried look before she knocked on the compartment's door and then slid it open. A girl about her age sat within, her loose hair marking her either as a Muggleborn or as a Pure- or Halfblood that didn't hold to the Old Ways; either way, it had Neville blushing a little as he and Amaranth stepped inside.

“Hi,” Amaranth said, pulling a clean handkerchief out of her dimensional store and handing it to the other witch as she sat down next to her. “I'm Mara, and this is Neville. Who're you, and why're you crying?”

There was sniffling and a soft blowing of a nose before an answer was given. “M-my name's H-Hermione, and some of the girls in another c-compartment said I should get off the train now and not bother going to Hogwarts. They said I don't belong h-here because I'm not a proper witch.”

Amaranth huffed sharply at that. “Well, they're idiots,” she said. “Are you Muggleborn?”

Hermione nodded as she wiped at her eyes. “Y-yes. Why? I can still do magic, so why am I not a proper witch?”

“Yes, but they were raised in the Old Ways, and look down on anyone who hasn't been, even those who don't know what that means,” Amaranth explained. “Your hair gave you away.”

Hermione lifted a hand to her frizzy hair. “My hair?”

“A witch's hair collects some of her magic and reflects her moods,” Neville said, his cheeks still dusted with pink. Most Pureblood wizards didn't think about talking about a witch's hair in polite society save to say it looked nice, so for him to be actually explaining the meaning behind it was highly unusual. “Witches raised in the Old Ways keep their hair bound up except in front of their bonded, children, or healers. Well, most of them, anyways. There are some who wear it down even if they were raised in the Old Ways, but they're not viewed... kindly by most of Wizarding society.”

“I didn't even know!” Hermione insisted. “And I've read a lot about Wizarding culture and _nothing_ is mentioned about keeping my hair up. I don't even know how that'd work. My hair is horrible to work with and can't really be tamed.”

“I can help with that,” Amaranth assured her. She gestured at her own hair, which was currently held back in two simple braids at the back of her head. “My house elf helps me with my hair in the mornings. I can call her and see if she'd be willing to help you with yours.” She paused. “I can also help explain more about the Old Ways if you like. Most Muggleborn learn about them when they're fostered or sponsored by a House or Family. My Aunt 'Cissa has told my cousin that he should keep an eye out for someone for the House of Malfoy to either foster or sponsor. Fostering and sponsoring are a little different in how they work, but--”

“Did you say 'Malfoy'?” Hermione interrupted, her eyes wide. “I--” She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, her fingers twisting the handkerchief into tortured shapes. “Professor McGonagall took us to the Ministry of Magic on our introductory tour. We went to a room with a book in it.”

“The Book of Souls,” Amaranth supplied helpfully. “It... Did it tell you the name of a Malfoy?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

Amaranth smiled warmly. “He's my cousin,” she said. “Now, it wouldn't be considered proper if Draco or myself offered to sponsor you, but Neville here or one of the other Families or Houses could.”

“Why wouldn't it be proper?”

“Because soulmates are considered a sacred thing amongst magic users,” Neville said. “And traditionally, soulmates are sponsored or fostered in separate Families or Houses to ensure nothing untoward happens to either of them. It's considered an honor by many to foster an ally's soulmate. It strengthens the bonds between the Houses, or is supposed to, anyways. I can write my mum to see if she'd be willing to owl your parents about us sponsoring you.”

Hermione nodded, a shy but pleased smile on her face. Amaranth called for Dahlia to help her with Hermione's hair, and by the time the last call whistle sounded, Hermione's hair had been mostly tamed and put up in a French braid. There were still flyaways here and there, but Dahlia assured Hermione that those could be managed better in time with specialized shampoos and hair wraps, just like what Amaranth used. Dahlia returned to Potter Manor just before the train started off, though since she was Amaranth's personally bonded elf, she would be able to pop in and out of Hogwarts as needed. It was a perk many of the noble Heirs used if they had the chance, though Amaranth had no intention of abusing the privilege like some did.

Draco joined them ten minutes or so after the train started off, bringing Blaise Zabini and Susan Bones with him. The latter two had been part of the larger friend group of the two cousins since they were young, often spending time with them during various parties and balls. When Amaranth introduced Hermione with a bit of a grin, she was highly amused to see the blush form high on her cousin's cheeks when he heard Hermione's name.

Once the initial awkwardness had passed-- though Hermione and Draco would occasionally exchange shy smiles and curious looks –the rest of the train ride went well, with the occasional visitor dropping in to say hello. Amaranth made sure to introduce the others in the compartment to Prism, the young serpent preening under all the attention he received. When the train finally reached Hogsmeade Station, the six of them stayed together until they had to separate into the boats at the shore of the Black Lake.

Amaranth, Neville, Draco, and Hermione all took one boat, while Susan and Blaise were in another. A deep warmth swept over Amaranth as the boats crossed the ward line near the middle of the lake, making her feel like she'd just sunk into a warm bath. It was wonderfully welcoming, though whether it was because she was Heir Slytherin or Heir Pendragon-- or if Hogwarts just liked her that much already –she wasn't sure. She kept it to herself, however, taking Neville's hand as he helped her and then Hermione out of the boat, Draco staying in it until the end to help keep it steady.

Once all the children had safely gotten onto dry land, Hagrid led them up to the castle, knocking three times upon the towering front doors. When Professor McGonagall answered the knock, Amaranth couldn't help but smile. The older witch was a favorite of hers, even if she didn't see her all that often during most of the year. She'd proved an invaluable ally with managing Dumbledore, especially after she'd been allowed to pass off her duties as Head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration teacher to others in order to focus solely on being Deputy Headmistress.

The Board had decided some time ago that having professors who both taught and who were House Heads was detrimental both to the teachers and the students, so they'd changed it so that the House Heads had no other responsibilities except to oversee their Houses. That had drawn quite a bit of protest from the Headmaster, but when the numbers showed that productivity had gone up and enmity both between and within the four Houses had gone down, he stopped fussing as much about it. The students had thrived under it, and inter-House rivalries had been at an all-time low in the past five years since the new status quo had been implemented. That didn't mean that there hadn't been trouble, of course, but it was more common to see mixed-House groups of friends, as well as study groups and clubs than it had been just a decade prior.

Amaranth listened to what McGonagall had to say, and when the Professor had left, turned to speak to the others about the Sorting. She was just about to start talking when a loud and rather obnoxious voice sounded nearby.

“Is that a _snake_? What are you doing bringing a great slimy snake here?”

Amaranth sighed softly before turning to look at the speaker. Ronald Weasley. Such an annoying boy. He'd always been rather dismissive of her, especially when she showed little interest in wanting to be around him. The rest of his family was lovely-- though Molly seemed to think that there weren't enough females in her life and tried to mother her even when she didn't want to be –and Amaranth got along with them perfectly fine. She quite liked the rest of the Weasley children, even Percy, who, while often officious and headstrong, was quite handy with a healing charm and a kind word if needed.

“Mister Weasley, Prism is my familiar, and he is not slimy,” she replied calmly, falling back on the kind of distant politeness Merlin had taught her was a ruler's greatest weapon when dealing with someone she didn't like. After all, she couldn't be accused of being rude or spiteful if she kept calm and somewhat gracious regardless of what was being said to her. That didn't mean she couldn't defend herself if necessary, but Merlin and Sirius had pressed upon her that because of her status, known or not, her every action would be judged and dissected by those who were watching. It was better to establish a persona of being just and fair in all things with all people now rather than thrusting it upon people when she took the throne.

“So? It's still a ruddy snake! It shouldn't be allowed!” Ron insisted. “It could bite us all!”

“Prism isn't venomous,” Amaranth corrected. “He's a constrictor. More to the point, he's also a baby. The most he can do is eat small mice. An eleven-year-old is far too big for him.”

Ron huffed at that. “Still a snake.” He sneered. “Bet you're going to be a Snake as well. I--”

He stopped when the ghosts started streaming through the wall, talking animatedly about Peeves. Not too long after that, Professor McGonagall was back to collect them and lead them into the Great Hall. Amaranth was glad not to have to deal with Ron any more, secretly hoping that they wouldn't get Sorted into the same House. It may have been petty of her, but she didn't want to have to deal with him for the next seven years. The Lady only knew what he'd be like when he found out about her royal status, let alone the fact that she and Neville were soulmates and betrothed, something that had been quietly done a week after their joint birthday party.

The betrothal would provide both of them protections against others who might seek to use them for their status-- both were Heirs of Ancient and Noble Houses, after all, and to titles in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds – as well as not caring about the fact that they were soulmates. They both wore gold betrothal rings on the pointer finger of their left hands; Amaranth's had the Longbottom coat of arms engraved on it while Neville's had the Potter coat of arms. The rings would provide extra protections against love and lust potions and spells specifically, adding to those their Heir rings already gave them.

Amaranth shook herself out of her thoughts when they reached the front of the Great Hall, carefully not looking at the Headmaster. There was a strict magical restraining order on him that prevented him from speaking to her outside the sole capacity of her Headmaster while at school, and even then, he was required to have either Sirius or Remus at any meeting that took place in his office, as well as whomever her Head of House would be. Neville and Draco had similar orders against him as well, not wanting to be used as a way to get close to Amaranth indirectly.

The orders had been debated about amongst the Avalon Alliance, but in the end it was decided it was for the best, especially given the power Dumbledore still had over quite a bit of the Wizarding World, even outside of Britain. No one wanted him to have more power than he already did, especially not over Amaranth. That would be a disaster of epic proportions if it happened.

McGonagall set the three-legged stool down on the floor before taking the Sorting Hat from the Head Girl, who had been assisting with getting things ready. She cleared her throat and began to read off names, placing the Hat on each student's head in turn. Amaranth clapped for them all, but wasn't ashamed to admit that she clapped harder when Hermione went to Ravenclaw, Neville went to Hufflepuff, and Draco went to Slytherin. Everyone seemed to hold their breath when her name was called.

Amaranth ignored them all, stepping up to the stool and then taking a seat on it. McGonagall placed the Hat on her head, and soon the rest of the Hall was blocked by the cloth making up the ancient artifact.

_Ah, welcome to Hogwarts, your Highness. It is an honor to finally meet you._

_**An honor?** _ Amaranth murmured back in the privacy of her mind.  _**I'm not sure about that, but thank you anyways.** _

The Hat chuckled softly. _Modest, hmm? That'll serve you well. I can see the same fire that your mother had in her, though, as well as the eagerness of both your fathers to prove themselves to the world. There's cunning here, yes, as well as bravery, loyalty, and intelligence. You're a tough one to Sort, but given who's had hands in raising you, I'm hardly surprised._

**_My family has always stood by me and made sure to teach me everything they can._ **

_Yes, they have, but they've also given you love, the drive to succeed, and the knowledge that while you may be the future Queen, you're still allowed to just be_ _ you _ _ , _ the Hat countered. It hummed softly to itself for a moment, snatches of ancient melodies flowing into Amaranth's brain without going through her ears first.  _ Yes, yes, they've shaped you well, though you have grown and developed in your own way as well, like a vine on a trellis or arbor. You would do well to continue that growth in-- _

“RAVENCLAW!”

Amaranth blinked in the candlelight as the Hat was lifted off her head. She got up to the sound of clapping and cheers and made her way to sit next to Hermione, who looked rather pleased about having a friend in her House already. Amaranth glanced up at the teacher's table, barely hiding a smirk at the tight expression on Dumbledore's face. He probably expected her to go into Gryffindor like all three of her parents, but she didn't care. She was her own person, after all, and the sooner he learned that, the better.

Once the Sorting had finished (with Blaise joining Draco in Slytherin) and the Headmaster had made a short but rather nonsensical speech, the Welcoming Feast began. Amaranth and the others started to put food on their plates, with Amaranth making sure to quietly cast detection spells on her food, plate, and silverware before beginning to eat. It might seem paranoid, but even with the protections on her rings, she wasn't about to take chances.

As she settled in, Amaranth relaxed more and more, finally feeling like she was on the road to fulfilling her future. It would be a long and hard road to get there, and doubtlessly filled with many obstacles, but as long as she had good friends and family on her side and magic in her soul, she was confident that one day, she would ascend the throne and lead the British Wizarding World and Avalon to the shining future once promised by Arthur himself. 

For now, though, she was going to focus on simply being herself and enjoying school. She was, after all, only just eleven. There would be plenty of time for the rest later. 

 


End file.
